Of Love and Death
by TheWoodElf
Summary: This is my tribute to Duncan. A pure, passionate and desperate love story between a man at the end of his days and a young woman who begins to face life. Two souls travel through opposite moments of existence, but find a brief intense meeting point. You'll also find my musings on love, death, life, being heroes, and my personal take on the Taint and the Joining. Beta: Kira Tamarion
1. Liv Cousland

_This work is intended to be a tribute to Duncan but also to the Dragon Age world in its entirety.  
Since the first time I picked up this game I couldn't help but dwell in my imagination on what could have happened during the trip from Highever to Ostagar. In my mind (and heart) was born a love story between Duncan and my young warden Liv. But fear not, I haven't described Duncan as a mature man chasing young girls. On the contrary, she will fall in love at first sight and he'll prove to be quite difficult to conquer.  
What follows is a pure and delicate, but passionate and desperate love story between a man who knows he's at the end of his days and a young woman who begins to face life. Two souls who travel through two opposite moments of existence, but who will find a brief but intense meeting point.  
This tale will tell the story of what happens during the journey to Ostagar and then reinterpret the subsequent events up to Duncan's death. I tried to keep my story as similar as possible to the known one; some dialogues were slightly changed and I also invented a few minor details in order to give more color to it. Regarding the deepening of the character and past of Duncan, I followed what is in the book 'The Calling' and entrusted the rest to my creative instincts. I took some 'artistic license' with fact but in essence my story fits perfectly with what is the original._

_o-o-o  
_

There was a particularly crisp breeze that evening in late spring; the wind was blowing from the east, live with the smell of the sea. Sitting on top of the walls surrounding Highever Castle, Liv Cousland suddenly recalled the day when she was just a nine year old skinny tomboy who enjoyed playing at war with her older brother Fergus. They had assembled two wooden swords and had fought on the pebble beach having lots of fun.  
It was always her who spurred him to duel, but it was Fergus that got scolded by their mother.

Liv smiled thinking back to those days. Now she was no longer a skinny tomboy, but nor was she the graceful maiden clothed in velvet that her mother had wished. Or, better, that she claimed to wish, because Liv knew that Eleanor was once like her if not worse. Bryce had told her several stories of how Eleanor Cousland, in her younger years, had distinguished herself for her combat skills and temper, which clearly had been passed onto her daughter.

Both Couslands had very early on given up any attempts to make a fair maiden out of their daughter and eventually Bryce Cousland had even succumbed to Liv's pressing demands to receive training as a soldier, which included sword, shield and the use of light armor. Heavy armor could only be worn by very strong men, but even they were often hindered by all that equipment during the fighting.

The sun was setting behind the last hill to the west and the breeze was getting cool. Liv brushed aside a lock of long black hair that the wind had blown across her face and climbed off the massive wall.

This night an old friend of her father's had arrived, Rendon Howe, Arl of Amaranthine and Fergus was going to leave along with Howe and his army, heading for Ostagar to fight the Darkspawn invasion. There was an atmosphere of great industry in the castle and all that turmoil had made her escape to the top of the walls.

Whenever visitors came from outside Highever, it meant being forced to dress up as a lady and suffer formal presentations. The thing she hated the most was finding herself facing spoiled and unpleasant young men knowing that her parents were hoping she might see a possible husband in one of them. But Liv knew herself to be altogether very lucky; her father would never force her into a marriage she didn't want, he loved and respected her greatly. In fact, Bryce had a soft spot for that very special daughter of his. So independent, so proud, just like her mother, the woman who almost thirty years earlier had enchanted him with her charms. Liv had just turned twenty one, and yet hadn't been promised to anyone, while Eleanor had already given birth to Fergus at that age.

The youngest son of Howe was no different; in fact, of all the windbags she had been introduced to, that one was the ugliest and most unpleasant of all, just like his father.  
Both had a huge nose that looked like the beak of a griffon, long yellowish teeth and affected manners.  
She had met young Howe a couple of years earlier and had hoped to never see him again.

Liv pushed open the doors to the Main Hall. She could already from the outside hear the voices of her father and two other men, one of which she recognized immediately; it was the cawing of Rendon Howe, but the other one was completely new to her. She entered the room and got dazzled by the bright light coming from the large fireplace and the many candles in sconces on the stone walls, but soon she could make out the figures of three men standing there, discussing war and strategies. They did not immediately notice her so she could observe the man whose voice she did not recognize. He was rather tall, dressed in the most magnificent light armor she had ever seen, except in the illustrations of the books that told of great heroes of the past.  
His hair as black as night, long and neatly pulled back in a pony tail. He had a slightly darker skin and the thick black beard typical of the Rivain region. His eyes were also dark, insightful and as piercing as daggers. He had a look of concern on his face, as if the whole world weighed on his shoulders, yet kept a proud stance not allowing the burden bend his back. His features were chiseled as they were carved in rock, but warm and sweet at the same time. His forehead furrowed by deep lines suggested a mature age but his lips were full like those of a young man. The powerful body was forged from a thousand battles, the spirit tempered by the habit of bearing great responsibility; he looked capable of great kindness and compassion, yet steeped in a great melancholy.

Liv was fascinated by this man who seemed to have popped straight out one of the books she'd loved since childhood, a hero from the past. He emanated an aura that would have led anyone to trust and follow him to the ends of the world without questioning. The man's dark eyes turned towards her and immediately took on a different expression; he nodded and smiled.

'Ah, I see we have your daughter here, Bryce and I see that she has become a truly lovely girl!' Howe said in his usual irritating manner.

Bryce turned to her 'Duncan let me introduce my daughter Liv ... come forward darling!'

Destiny is a bizarre and tricky thing. Throughout all her life, Liv Cousland had been forced to wear her sea-blue velvet dress ('it brings out the color of your eyes!' said her mother) whenever she met the illustrious guests visiting the Castle, and every time she had found herself in conversation with unpleasant old men with bodies decayed by too wealthy a life, and their young arrogant offspring. But this time she had presented herself wearing the light leather armor she used for the afternoon training. It was sweaty and dirty here and there and she was completely disheveled.

Liv's hair was long and wavy, cut by a sword-thrust by her brother Fergus once when she had challenged him to a duel and had neither put her helmet on, nor tied her hair in a ponytail. The blow had struck just below shoulder level, but the cut was not clean. Liv liked the new hairstyle so much that she had refused to repair it, much to the dismay of her mother.

For the first time in her life she wished to be presentable and felt very embarrassed but didn't let it show; in fact, she squared her shoulders, straightened her back and approached the three men with bold steps.

'You sent for me?' she asked her father in an overly cocky way. This inspired laughter in Howe, who reproached Bryce for being too lenient with his own daughter.

Liv turned contemptuously towards the Arl.

'Is your son with you, here at the Castle?' implying that she was hoping for the opposite. This enraged the withered old crow even more and he suddenly lost his affected manner and grimaced in deep disappointment.

'It seemed to me, actually, that the last time you two got along pretty well,' he said in a higher-pitched voice than usual.

In fact Liv had played along with young Howe in his pathetic advances to let him down in the end, then tell everything to Fergus and have a few laughs behind his back. Yes, she knew how to be nasty when she wanted. Bryce sighed and tried to change the subject.

'Pup, come meet Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens.'

Liv felt the blood freeze in her veins. Her father hadn't called her 'pup' for years, so why did he have to do it right now in front of Duncan, when for the first time in her life she wanted to make a good impression?

_A Grey Warden! Then he must be here to recruit someone, but who? Perhaps Fergus... _

She dared not even hope that he'd come for her, it would be too good to be true.  
Her brother was about to leave for the long journey to Ostagar to support the King in battle against the Darkspawn and Liv envied him for that. She too longed to join the army and fight for the King!

'You know what Grey Wardens are right?'

_If I know? Of course I do, I have spent my life reading books about them and dreaming of taking part in an epic quest..._

'They are an ancient order of great warriors' she said.

Bryce turned to Duncan 'You are here to test Ser Gilmore?'

Ser Gilmore was a young, handsome boy of the same age as Liv who had shown great skill in battle as well as an aptitude for discipline and self-control. Of all the young men she had known until now, Gilmore was the only one who could successfully court her, but he was also the only one to have never shown the slightest interest in Liv. At least not that kind of interest... she had hoped he was just too much of a gentleman to step forward, or maybe he was too committed to improving himself to think of romance. But one day she saw him hanging around for an extremely delicate looking girl, dressed and coiffed in a very rich and elaborate way, and understood. But at last she found out she didn't care that much.

'Actually, my first choice would be your daughter, Bryce!' Duncan said looking straight into her eyes. She held his gaze, two deep black eyes that were scanning the depths of her soul.

_'You know my true value and you are ready to trust me!'_ she thought, returning the same penetrating gaze with her sapphire eyes. Her life was about to change, she had smelled it in the air this night and now she knew.  
She had always known she was somehow born to a special destiny, she felt she had a mission to accomplish, and it wasn't getting married and start a family like a normal person.

'No, my daughter is not an option! And in this issue I do not intend to change my mind!' Bryce said with a frown. It seemed to Liv that the world was collapsing altogether.

'What? But why? Why can't I fight?'

She was trembling with astonishment and anger, and her voice was trembling with her.  
In Ferelden women were held in high esteem and it wasn't as queer that a woman fought like men as it was in Orlais or Antiva. Why was her father clipping her wings?

'Your mother was adamant about this! Duncan please, I don't have many children and I can't sacrifice them all in battle!'

Duncan stared at him with compassion, 'Do not worry my friend, if I can find the recruits I need in sufficient number there will be no reason to force you! I'm not going to call upon the Right of Conscription.'

That was the problem ... the Grey Wardens were an order of great heroes, the King was asking for support from all allies against a common threat but when it came to sacrificing his own daughter, all good intentions vanished. Her father loved her too much to risk losing her. Liv felt her anger dissolve and turn into great tenderness. 'Let me talk to her, maybe I can convince her!' she said, knowing that Eleanor was not the main obstacle between her and the Grey Wardens. And indeed the answer was negative.

'You'll stay here at the castle while I am away; you'll carry on all my duties and it's not a small task that I'm giving you. It's because I trust you and your abilities and you'll assist Duncan in everything he needs!'

But Howe's men were slowed by the bad weather. Liv was sent to warn Fergus that he had to leave without his father, who would instead wait for the arrival of his old friend's troops.

Fergus departed that evening. Thunder was heard in the distance, and the air had become turbulent. Liv did not fail to emphasize the fact that he would sleep in the open, in the rain, while she would stay warm in a soft bed. He laughed and kissed her forehead before starting to walk down the hill. She watched him as he walked the paved road winding its way down to the valley below, until he disappeared behind a hill, then turned towards home whispering 'Take care of yourself brother, and come back soon. I'll miss you... '

She wasn't sleepy yet and so walked down to the Main Hall. There she found Duncan standing in front of the huge fireplace. He was staring into the dancing flames with a pensive look. She approached and stood beside him in silence.

'Have you met Sir Gilmore?' she asked after a while.

He nodded.

'Will you recruit him? Will he become a Grey Warden?'

He nodded again. 'He's a skilled young man and resourceful, truly remarkable. But I still think that you would be the best choice. Tomorrow I'll search Highever for other possible candidates, but if I do not find new ones, my choice will fall on you. The Grey Wardens can recruit whomever they want in case of an upcoming Blight and although in the past I have always tried neither to create family tragedies nor to make enemies among the nobility, the situation is getting critical very fast. I don't know for how long I can continue to act as if the times are... the same as ever'.

Liv was silent. Duncan's voice was deep and possessed a calming effect even when talking about plagues and impending tragedy. Now that they were alone she could fully appreciate the immense presence of the man. He possessed an aura extending far beyond his physical boundaries. She realized she should have felt small and insignificant beside him, as in a state of reverent awe, but felt instead thoroughly understood as never before in her life.  
Liv was aware that the man could read the depths of her soul like an open book, perceive her true essence and value and she felt in complete empathy with him despite the fact they had known each other just a few hours.

'Can you tell me about the Grey Wardens?'

Duncan seemed to be expecting nothing less than that question from her.

'The Grey Wardens are a very particular order of warriors who dedicate their lives to the war against the Darkspawn. Becoming one of us means being provided the tools required for this war... but it's not enough. We also require renouncement of family bonds and titles and the awareness that we sacrifice our lives for the greater good.'

He stopped and stood looking pensive, his eyes lost in the dancing flames of the fireplace, as if many thoughts and memories were suddenly rekindled in him. He had been a Grey Warden for many years now, in fact he had been for more than half his life.

'Please go on' said Liv bringing him out of his trance.

'That will suffice for now. Go get some sleep, you carry a great responsibility, your father has entrusted you with not a small task and you should try not to underestimate it. If fate wills it, one day you'll fight alongside us but there are many other duties as important and noble that life calls us to do. Managing an entire Teyrnir at your age, even for a limited time, should be a terrifying responsibility for someone so young. But I see an uncommon strength in you ... Now I will retire to my chambers and you will do the same. Tomorrow evening we'll meet again and I will update you on the situation. Ready yourself for the possibility of being recruited and having to leave as soon as possible. Have a good night.'

Liv looked straight into his eyes.

'I desire nothing but to follow you to Ostagar and fight alongside my father and brother and you!'


	2. Attack on Castle of Highever

chapter 2 - Attack to Castle Cousland

She had the impression of having just fallen asleep when she heard a sudden, loud bang at the door of her bedroom. Boom! She woke with a start and heard cries coming from the corridor, there were many voices coming from every direction, the voices of men, women and children; there were battle cries mingled with the barking of Mabari war-hounds and the clashing of many swords.

Liv's Mabari, Ash, was growling with flattened ears at the door, ready to shoot forward in attack. The girl dressed as quickly as she could in the leather armor she was wearing the day before, took the sword from the trunk and walked to the door to open it, but it literally exploded in her face vomiting two soldiers into the room, who attacked trying to kill her.

Ash rushed at one of the soldiers targeting the throat, threw the man to the ground and holding him down under her huge, heavy, muscular body, tore him to death in a few seconds. Liv dodged the mace-blow directed towards her head, thanks to a quick crouch, then rapidly struck the soldier in the abdomen, managing to insert the blade between the plates of the armor. Splashes of blood stained her right arm and cheek but she wasted no time to clean up. Hearing that others were coming, she left the room immediately and saw two soldiers bearing the insignia of Amaranthine at the door of Eleanor's bedroom. Liv rushed forward with a battle cry to attack them. The two were taken by surprise by the sudden attack and soon found themselves lying on the ground in pools of their own blood. For the first time in her life Liv was killing people and facing real battle. This time it wasn't training, the strokes were aimed to injure and kill and the slightest mistake could cost everything. Yet Liv had the feeling that she had never done anything but this all her life and was neither frightened nor shocked by the battle or the idea of killing. Indeed, her blood was seething with hatred for Howe; he had betrayed her father and now his soldiers were setting Highever on fire. Liv suddenly got transfixed by the thought that maybe Bryce had already been reached in his bedroom and killed in his sleep. In that very moment she heard the door open, and saw her mother getting out wearing chainmail armor. Eleanor looked at her daughter as if she were a mystical vision.

'My dear! I was so worried for you, I was about to come and get you!'

They hugged each other.

'Where's dad?' Liv asked with a lump in her throat.

'I don't know... he went out when the first sounds of turmoil were heard and I have no idea where he might be now! Come, we must get away from here, others are coming!'

Eleanor picked up a sword from a dead soldier and headed for the courtyard but Liv stopped abruptly. The door to the room where her brother's wife and his son Oren slept was closed but showed signs of forced entry. The wood was cracked in several places and the lock was broken. She opened the door and found herself facing the feared scene; the corpse of her sister-in-law was lying on the ground, covering Oren's body.

It was clear that the mother had tried to protect the child shielding him with her own body but a sword had pierced both with ease. Liv stood still staring at the scene and couldn't think of anything else but the moment she had to bring these news to Fergus. Liv had never got on with Oriana, the typical mannered and self-righteous woman of Antiva. But she loved her nephew and above all she loved Fergus and couldn't tolerate the thought of giving him a grief so immense.

'Oh noooooooo!'

Liv was torn from trance by her mother's cry of pain. She turned and saw the woman kneeling, her head in her hands, knuckles white as they tensed in the effort to pull at two tresses of hair as if she were trying to tear them out.

'Mother, don't watch! Come on...both of you!' Liv pulled her mother off and the Mabari that was disconsolately whining while trying to revive Oren by licking his hand. Eleanor didn't look to be able to stand on her own legs, bent under her grief, so Liv grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently. 'Mother, I swear that Howe will pay, I'll kill him with my bare hands should it be the last thing I do! But now let's go and fight! We have to find dad and escape the castle, come on! ' Eleanor looked at her daughter as if she saw her for the first time, then squared her shoulders and assumed a fierce gaze.

'Come on!' she said jutting her chin forward and pursing her lips. An attitude that Liv often assumed when determined and that, apparently, she took after her mother.

They ran towards the courtyard where they were attacked by a group of soldiers which were easily dealt with. Full of adrenaline and anger as they were, they flung themselves at those men with a fury that swept them away like a tornado. They also had on their side the fact of being women and therefore weak and defenseless to the eyes of most men.

Being underestimated gave them a great laissez-passer.

They were unable to leave the castle, had already tried many different paths but each time they found the escape route blocked by barricades of wooden poles burning from oil barrels set on fire. Finally, after one of the too many turnarounds they were forced to make, they met Ser Gilmore who was very relieved to see them both alive and in good health. He was also covered with blood spatter but didn't seem to be injured although he looked very tired. He had been fighting for much longer than them and almost single-handedly been able to prevent Howe's men from invading the northern area of the castle.  
He had been put in charge of a small handful of Highever guards and had thrown back all attempts at invasion for several hours. He told them that Bryce had gone to the kitchens and that he was badly wounded.

In the larder there was a trapdoor that led into a secret passage leading directly to outside the walls of the castle and perhaps her father had gone there to seek refuge or was waiting for them... or perhaps he had hoped to find both his wife and daughter already there.

Liv was struck by the horrible thought that, not finding them there, he believed them both killed. 'Hurry up! Gilmore come with us!' Liv called in the manner of someone used to command. The young man smiled half amused but impressed.

'No my lady! I have to stay here and defend the last gate. If they break through it will be impossible to get to the kitchens. Run, I'll see you outside the walls, don't worry!'

With that, the handsome young man joined the other soldiers to repel the attempts of the invaders to break through the last barrier of the castle.

Liv, Eleanor and the Mabari raced at breakneck speed to the larder, and then ran for the trapdoor that served as an entrance to the secret passage, but saw what they didn't want to see. Bryce was lying on the ground in a pool of blood... but he was alive! He raised his head as they entered the room and called out their names with a voice broken from suffering and weakness.

'Father!' Liv sank down beside him and began fingering his clothes where they looked torn, trying to stop further bleeding but he stopped her.

'It's too late pup ... I ... I'm dead ... run to safety! Howe's men will be here very soon ...' It seemed that every word, whispered with the little strength he had left in his body, caused him terrible suffering.

'Bryce no!' Eleanor sobbed, clasping his blood covered hand. Liv stood speechless staring at her dying father, unable to think or do anything. She took his head in her hands and began to stroke it gently while tears fell on his gray hair already soaked in blood.  
Ash whined pitifully while licking his face and she was so desperate and clumsy that she managed to pull a smile out of him. Bryce often went walking in the woods around Highever with his dog and she was very fond of him.

They heard the door open suddenly and both women leapt to their feet ready to rail against anyone coming in. But the man who entered was not a soldier of Howe's. It was Duncan!  
Their eyes met and Liv realized by the look he gave her she was in a pitiful state; in fact the armor, arms and face were soiled with the blood of her father, tresses of hair were plastered to her face with sweat and her eyes were full of tears. 'I'm fine,' she reassured him. The Grey Warden approached Bryce and immediately realized that there was no hope. Bryce grasped his arm.

'... My friend ... Promise me that you will take my daughter and wife with you ... and bring them to safety ... now get out of here!'

Eleanor wrapped herself around him as if to prevent being taken away.

'No, my love! I'll stay here where my place is, with you! You two must flee to safety! '

She was calm but determined. She had chosen, there was no desperation in her voice, just resignation to fate and immense love and gratitude for the man she had married.

Duncan witnessed the scene standing in the background, silent, looking like he was on the verge of tears. He put a hand on Liv's shoulder to comfort her but also to call her to duty; they had to get out of there in a hurry.

'MOTHER! I CAN'T LEAVE YOU HERE! THEY'LL KILL YOU!'

But Eleanor was adamant.

'No, honey! You have a life ahead of you and will survive this night. You will go out there into the world and do great deeds... I've had a good life with your father and shall remain at his side to the end' she said looking at her husband with infinite tenderness.

Then she turned to her daughter with the eyes of fire that distinguished the Cousland women.

'Get yourself honor and avenge us when the time comes. I'm sure you'll make us proud... goodbye!'


	3. Traveling to Ostagar

Chapter 3 – Traveling to Ostagar

Confused memories of that night remained in Liv's mind. She could only recall having been driven like a ghost through the secret passage by a silent Duncan, then having pulled along down the hills of Highever in a state of physical and emotional exhaustion, under the dark and starless sky.

The sun was high when Duncan, already standing and dressed in full armor, woke her up. She realized he let her sleep for many hours, in order to give her the chance to recover from that terrible night. She sat up with some effort and found herself wrapped in a wolfpelt, and then realized to be wearing only her linen undergarment.

She tried to recall the events of the night before, but couldn't recall having fallen asleep by the campfire... probably her frowning and astonished eyes were easy to read for Duncan, who came to her aid.

'Tonight we descended the hills down to the plains, until you dropped to the ground unconscious. If I only had realized of your conditions I would have stopped earlier, but a thick blanket of clouds covered the stars and the moon, it was pitch black ... I'm sorry.'

Liv gave him a reassuring smile.

'I carried you in my arms up to this glade, and lit the fire. Then I allowed myself to take off your armor...' he said looking somewhat embarrassed, but she didn't react badly so he went on 'it was stained in blood so I washed it in the small river flowing nearby. And then I washed you, you had more blood on you than a sacrificial altar.'

Indeed! Now Liv recalled the feeling of uneasiness she had felt while walking down the lane, her skin increasingly tightening as the blood coagulated, drying.

'You regained consciousness while I was rubbing your arm, then you cried for a long time before falling asleep.'

He spoke watching her with affection, nodding a half-smile; he had ways that didn't cause her feel uncomfortable despite the situation. Liv looked at him in silence.

Now she remembered. Hours before she had opened her eyes in the warmth of the campfire while he was gently rubbing a moist cloth on her left arm. She had observed him for a while as he continued rinsing out the cloth in a bowl of pewter, squeezed it on the ground, and run it on her skin caked with dried blood. She remembered having felt a wonderful sensation, his way of looking after her was so loving and reassuring. He had saved her life and now was taking care of her as a daughter... but later her mind replayed the scene of her dying father, and of her mother, embracing him in a hug that meant the love of a lifetime. But she suddenly had become aware that her mother should have been already dead too. The pain had made her start crying, softly, she was too weak to abandon herself to sobs as she'd wished. It was in that moment that Duncan had realized she was awake, had sent her a look of infinite tenderness and gently stroked her forehead. She had nestled in his arms and had cried until fallen asleep.

'Thank you ... I ... I owe you a lot'

He looked at her sternly.

'You owe me nothing! You just experienced horrific events that I haven't been able to avoid, and now I'm going to drag you into a long journey that will lead you to a battle in which we may both die. So, don't thank me.'

He took the backpack, put it on his shoulder and headed for the trail.

'I'll go check if the area is safe. In the meanwhile dress yourself up and eat something, I've left a piece of black bread and some goat milk, I'll be back in about half an hour' he said disappearing behind a group of young trees infested with vines.

_Ash!_

She had completely forgotten of her mabari ... oh no! She must have stayed with her parents and had died trying to protect them ... Liv felt terribly guilty for having forgotten her at the castle, but she had been the first to be dragged away by Duncan down the underground passage _... Ash__forgive me_ ...  
Some claim that animals possess the gift of telepathy as a sixth sense as developed as sight or smell, fact is that at that moment the huge beast emerged from the thicket running to her happily, holding a huge dead hare in her mouth.

_Gift__!  
_  
She didn't say in words, but put the hare on Liv's bare feet and began running around in circles, crazy with joy.

'Oh good girl! Let's have a party tonight at dinner then!' exclaimed rubbing the flat wide head of her dog.  
Mabari were brachycephalic dogs with massive structure, champions of strength and endurance, although not overly agile.

Ferelden was a very peculiar region, its strong people not accustomed to comfort; they didn't ride horses, and the only rare ones that were seen around were pulling heavy carts, or used to work in the fields instead of cattle. These were low and stocky animals with highly developed muscle mass, the equine version of mabaris. Fereldans were used to sustain long marches on foot without getting weary. In Ferelden there was a saying that "there are no distances too long, just uncomfortable boots."

Liv headed to the small river flowing a little farther, a tributary of the Dane, and plunged inside. It was warm and bright, both she and her petticoat of linen would dry soon. Ash stayed on the shore barking, flustered. Mabaris didn't love bathing.

After the refreshing cold bath the girl returned to the camp and slipped into her armor, which found hung with care to a pole stuck in the ground, at a distance from the bonfire that had allowed it to get dry without causing the leather to crack.  
Duncan seemed to have great experience in camping.

She sat down on the wolf pelt and began to eat bread and milk with greed. The sky was clear, the air warm and fragrant with the many spring flowers, songs of various birds were all mixed in an almost deafening concert.

She found herself unable to be sad as she should be.

She kept thinking she was going to travel with Duncan for many days and that she would soon become a Grey Warden. She was thrilled by the thought. Her dream was about to come true, although in a much more tragic way than she had imagined.  
She stood up on her feet and coiled the wolf pelt, tied it with a leather string to secure it on the top of the backpack, and headed for the pathway. Duncan had to be back by now.

They walked all day long without a a break, down the winding path between the steep rocky hills that stood around the fortress of Highever.

During the first hours Liv remained silent, thoughtful. She usually wasn't strained by long walks, being used to those she did with her father and Ash up and down the paths around Highever. But these were not forced marches, they rested whenever they wanted and walked at a slow pace.

The situation was quite different now, she wanted to save her breath not to collapse like she did the night before, and didn't want to look too weak to face the life that awaited her. Indeed her strength had failed because of the preceding battle and the experienced tragedy, but didn't want show the slightest sign of slowing or fatigue. She wanted her recruiter to be proud and not give him any reason to doubt his own choice.

Liv was a noble, true, but her parents had risen her teaching a strict sense of duty and ethics. The word "heroism" had a very high meaning to her, she didn't long for glory, but just do the right thing and be proud of herself.

They walked through the woods for hours without meeting a soul.

The sun had begun disappearing behind the hills to the west when Duncan abandoned the trail in order to find a clearing fit for camping. He walked without fail up to a meadow showing the signs of a previous campfire, now extinguished for several days.

Liv understood Duncan must know the Ferelden like the back of his hands.

Wonder how old he was ... and for how long was he a Grey Warden?

His hair was still entirely black, only some rare silver wires shone on his temples; his beard, cut short and square, was black and neat. The furrows that crossed his forehead looked to be created by too much time spent frowning in thought, rather than age.

His armor wasn't heavy but very stylish and rich with inlays. It emphasized his body, a triumph of elegance and strength, his mighty chest above a slender waist adorned with many belts intersecting each other; these bore a long tunic that covered his legs up to the ankles. He was charming. Liv realized having observed him even too much all day long, as she walked behind him or at his side, depending on the width of the path.

She had always been horrified when girls of her age were forced by their parents into marriages with men more than twice their age, or even older, to strengthen political relationships or create new ones. Or worse, used as a bargaining chip to acquire new lands and expand borders. Arranged marriages were common in Ferelden, but women were respected there, and the betrothed had the opportunity to know each other quite well before marriage, so that they could retreat. This rarely happened however, because parents chose carefully, caring for the happiness of their children more than politics. And love marriages were common even among the nobles, as it had been for her father and mother.

_Never__, I'll__never__fall in love__!_

She often repeated to herself, and if on the one hand she was proud and happy of that, considering the miserable sample of humanity she met until that day, on the other hand had kept on dreaming to meet a man worthy of that name. But, as time went by, she got more and more convinced such men did not exist in real life. The only one was her father, but he was, in fact, her father!

'If I'll ever meet a man like you, I'll marry him the very same day without even wearing a wedding dress' she had said once to Bryce, who had answered 'And if so, my dear pup, you'll stay a spinster because the Maker threw away the mold after shaping me!'

They had laughed, but perhaps this was the fate that awaited her, and this idea had disturbed her greatly.

'May I ask you how long ago you joined the Grey Wardens?' she asked while they were collecting firewood from the undergrowth. He looked at her as if he had just realized that she was there.

'I was very young ... perhaps too much, when I was recruited. I was a bit younger than you are now; more than twenty years have passed now and this means that I have been for quite a time ' he said looking more tired than usual.

_Maybe forty? They are not so many, dad was much older!_

Liv had believed that they were peers, but in fact her father had not spent his life fighting or traveling under the sun, and had significantly fewer worries and responsibilities than a man who carried the fate of the entire Ferelden on his shoulders.

Duncan seemed to have read her thoughts.

'What was it, a trick to get me reveal my age? I would have told you without the need for subterfuge' he said amused, and laughed, showing a row of white and even teeth. Liv had not yet seen him laughing, he was always so damn serious, frowning, always absorbed in thoughts only he knew. She showed off one of her best smiles in response, when she smiled her eyes always looked like bright stars.

Liv knew she was carrying a weapon more powerful than the sword, an uncommon charm which had procured more nuisance than anything else so far, and of which she never wanted to take advantage.  
In fact Liv was never aware of how beautiful she was when she smiled, and that made her even more attractive, because she was spontaneous and genuine.

She had often seen her smile provoke amusing reactions. Too many times she had noticed sudden arrests in respiratory functions, and as many she had noticed the grip of envy in women's eyes. She never got along with other girls, but she had always thought it was due to the fact of being a tomboy. Her best (and only) friend and playmate had always been her brother Fergus.

Liv felt as if Duncan hadn't remained indifferent either, his reaction much less dramatic, but stared at her without speaking or moving for a while. In fact, his expression grew more wistful than usual. He sighed and beckoned to return to the camp. Both had collected enough wood to start a fire, and a few minutes later it was crackling vigorously, the flickering light illuminating the two of them and the trees all around.

Liv Cousland was not the sort to keep things within. If she didn't understand a thing she had to figure it out as quickly as possible. She was curious and forthright, and completely lacked savoir-faire.

'Is there something troubling you? Aside from the impending war I say ... I apologize if I was inopportune and you don't want me to ask any more questions about your past...'

Duncan looked puzzled.

'Not at all! Forgive me, it's just that you reminded me of someone. But it's not your fault at all...' he replied staring at the flames with a pensive look.

'Sometimes memories re-emerge with violence in spite of the efforts made to relegate them in the past'.

Liv was still not satisfied. She felt the overwhelming desire to know him better and he was so damn silent! It seemed he had deliberately broken the thread with his past and she was burning with the desire to know what lay behind that wistful look.

'Do I look like your mother?'

In fact, she ardently hoped it was not the case.  
He smiled enigmatically and said nothing more, took the huge hare that Ash had hunted that morning, then cleaned and speared it with his dagger, finally put it on the fire to roast. Then he pulled out two apples from his bag and threw one to Liv without warning, but she caught it without missing.

'Excellent readiness! It will help you dodge the shots in battle. I was actually surprised having not found a single wound on your body last night, I didn't believe all that blood on you was someone else's. You are a true force of nature, Liv Cousland!'

He spoke her name slowly and clearly; Liv got the weird impression to hear it for the first time in her life, and realized she had never loved it as much as she did now.

That evening ate staring all the time at Duncan's features, illuminated by the dancing flames of the fire; felt a strong desire to nestle in his arms, stroke his face and kiss his soft Rivaini lips. But refrained herself, though with an effort. She had never experienced such desire toward someone, but now that it was happening, why wait? She had already waited long enough!

She stood up to rekindle the fire.

'What's your last name? I don't think I know it.'

This question had laid the man in the attitude he assumed when lost in thought, his head slightly reclined to one side and the most wistful expression Liv had ever seen. Then he stood up and threw a big trunk on the glowing embers.  
He stared at the fire without speaking for a while.

'The name binds us to a family, a past, a place ... I let it go along with all these things. I am now Duncan the Grey Warden. I have no home, nor other constraints, just a mission to fulfill' he said staring into space.

He turned and looked at her as if that thought made him suffer.

'You believed that becoming one of us would have been thrilling, and I understand that... but our life is very hard and only few are able to deal with it. But I see in you the strength required, though I hate to condemn you to this fate ...'

'My destiny brought me to you and I don't ask for anything better!' she confessed without fear.

She had never been very careful in expressing her feelings, she never needed to; in fact her life had always been pretty easy so far. She'd always imagined that the day when the love of her life would show up, he could do nothing but reciprocate. He'd claim he'd always been waiting for no-one but her, and that she was his dream come true. They would kiss in the moonlight and would be forever happy.

But things didn't go that way at all.  
Liv approached the man she realized she was in love with and to whom she longed to give her virginity. That same evening! She was a beautiful soul, but still a noble accustomed to having what she wanted and whenever she wanted it.  
She dreamily walked towards him, stroked his cheek gently and closed her eyes, bringing her face close to his and waiting for their lips to touch. But it did not happen.

She heard instead a deep sigh, and then his voice:

'I'm quite sure your father didn't mean this when he implored me to look after you. I cannot do this I'm sorry ...'

Liv opened her eyes abruptly awakened from her dream.

'Why?' she asked in a choked voice.

He took her hands, wrapping them in his, and looked at her tenderly.

'You're having a hard time, and I'm too old for you. Now you believe you're in love because you see me as your savior, your hero, but tomorrow you might regret having ...'

He paused and sighed heavily seeing two tears streaming down the cheeks of the girl whose heart he was breaking. He searched for the right words not to cause further damage.

'... I'm flattered, really, you're so beautiful and lovely and ...' but she interrupted him wriggling out of his hands.

'Please stop' she hissed angrily.

Duncan surrendered to the evidence that there wasn't a painless way to shatter the young girl's dreams.

'Please don't get mad at me. Maybe you hate me now, but I'm sure one day you'll be grateful...'

She watched him in disgust.

'Great, nice speech but that's just words. The simple truth is that you don't reciprocate my feelings. If so, you wouldn't give a damn about the difference in age or anything else!'

She was disappointed, hurt, but not by him; rather by life playing a trick on her.

Duncan stared straight into her eyes with severity: if young Cousland actually wanted to become a guardian of mankind she had to grow up, and fast. Being Grey Wardens was a tough job, which required strict rules. He had learned over the years. But the consciousness to condemn so many young souls to that hard fate had developed in him a deep capacity for compassion and infinite patience and understanding.

'Being a Grey Warden means you have to stop searching for your own happiness, it means being always, always focused on duty. I'm not in love with you nor with anyone else. Love is definitely selfish and not compatible with the life we lead. One day, very soon indeed, you'll understand.'

He spoke in gentle but inflexible way, then politely pushed her away from him and walked away towards the thicket.

Liv stood motionless as a statue. It wasn't as she had dreamed at all, and never would have expected such a cruel prank from fate.  
She didn't hate him, indeed she loved him even more after his rejection, if possible. She didn't feel humiliated and wasn't ashamed of her own feelings. And didn't regret having them expressed with frankness ... but ...

_Perhaps I was__overeager?__  
_Maybe, but Liv had always dreamed of love at first sight, the encounter between two souls who recognize each other and there's no need for words or time, they just know they have finally found one-another.

_Maybe this is__all__nonsense__to make fool__s __such as me happy,__ right __before the__harsh reality__brings them down back to__earth ..._

She fell to her knees and hid her face in her hands.

_Am I__bound to__be unhappy? _True love, the one that lasts a lifetime, she had seen with her own eyes, it had been right under her nose since when she was born: her parents. So it existed ...

_But__perhaps not for__me.__Maybe__I will die__in the battle of__Ostagar__and__reach__soon__Mom and Dad__... and perhaps even__Fergus__? __Yes, maybe__this is my__destiny!__Die__heroically__in the battle that__will end the__Blight__, my presence __will be vital__and__my life will__gain__a purpose!_

She opened her eyes, which now looked proud and determined, got up to her feet and walked towards her couch, wrapped herself in the wolf pelt and almost immediately fell asleep, exhausted. Ash crouched at her feet.

Duncan walked for a while among the trees but stopped soon; leaned his back against an imposing secular beech and looked up at the starry sky. Of all the things he expected might occur to him in what he knew were the last days of his life, never would have imagined what just happened, and not even hoped for. He had reached through the years a significant degree of detachment from his own ego and natural desire for happiness; this allowed him to fulfill his duty serenely, without regret and without suffering. And should he not die in the battle at Ostagar, he would have gone soon to the Deep Roads, where he would find a glorious end rather than ...

He sighed.

Until recently, Duncan had believed to have still a few years of life ahead, but soon became clear that this was a true Blight and not just a massive darkspawn invasion. And during the Blight the deterioration caused by corruption grew more quickly, and more frequent were the nightmares.

During the night before, the few hours of sleep he had managed to tear out his thoughts had brought a particularly vivid nightmare. He had seen the Dragon rally his troops to strike. He had awakened with a start at dawn, his forehead beaded with sweat.  
An now he had a further concern to keep him from sleeping ... maybe this wasn't a bad thing since ultimately he always woke up more weary and dispirited than when he had laid down.

In fact, what had just happened was much more than a concern, it was an upheaval in his perception of himself and his whole life.  
For long time he felt as an instrument of fate, and no longer a man with his own ambitions or desires. And he was tired. The struggle against the corruption which had entered him years before was getting more and more exhausting. He felt like a dead man, and never would have expected a young girl to fall in love with him. This awareness was forcing him to change the way he perceived himself, though he would have preferred not to.

But what was the point in doing this now?

These thoughts kept him awake for several hours, but in the end, late at night, exhaustion won over him and dragged himself to the camp. He found the fire almost out, reduced to a pile of glowing embers. He glanced at Liv wrapped in her wolf fur, her pale face looking relaxed and serene. That vision consoled him, so laid down and fell asleep quickly, overcome by fatigue.

...

Many thanks to LunaCangiante for her work of proof-reading :)


	4. Shadows from the past

Beta-reader:LunaCangiante (thank you) :)

The next day Duncan witnessed again the strength of the girl who was his new recruit. He had dreaded a situation of great embarrassment or resentment ... or worse. But she was just a little gloomy and taciturn, and not at all ashamed or offended.  
She indeed had an expression on her face that was quite hard to read.

They set out early that morning, having yet to cover many miles before reaching their destination, and if the weather would have turned bad their march would have been considerably slowed down.  
At noon they stopped to rest their legs and eat something sitting on a big flat rock. The sky had turned dark and leaden, but there was no storm coming, these rather looked like the kind of clouds that carry three days of heavy rains and turn the streets into rivers of mud.  
Duncan watched the sky worried.

'If it starts raining our journey could last another five days instead of three. The closer we get to Lake Calenhad the more fenny the terrain becomes. I remember one spring, thirteen years ago; after three days of uninterrupted rains all the plains around the lake had turned into a muddy swamp, the streets were swallowed by the mud, and it had been impossible to reach Redcliffe for a month, and if we arrive at Ostagar in five days we really could have the hours counted for...'

He stopped suddenly. He hadn't yet spoken to her of the ritual the recruits had to undergo to become Grey Wardens.  
The Joining Ritual was kept secret, and for a good reason: it could be very often fatal, and even when you survived, you spent some nasty hours, sometimes bad days, with terrible nightmares and/or physical discomfort, the most unfortunate suffered from insomnia. Then over the time you got used, but life would never return the same as before.

'For what? You were going to say for the ritual... am I wrong?'

Duncan was not the type to be easily upset, but this time he was taken aback. His eyes widened and looked bewildered.

Liv sent him a blink of complicity, amused by his reaction.

'You revealed it to me tonight. Do you often have nightmares at night? You spoke. I realized something that could kill me awaits me, and the thing was troubling you a lot. You were shaking covered in sweat.'

She looked at him straight in the eyes squeezing her own until they became slits.

'But don't you worry for me. I feel ready to face whatever fate held in store, serenely. I don't have much left to keep me tied to this life. I was left alone and death doesn't frighten me!'

Duncan was full of admiration. This girl, so young and full of resources, was willing to sacrifice her own life with such determination.  
She reminded him of the time away when he had to face the same situation. No, in fact his starting situation was quite different, to think of it.

-o-o-o-

They had grown up together in the streets of Val Royaux, in Orlais, living by their wits from petty theft and gimmicks. She had peach skin and eyes as bright as stars, the young Duncan had just discovered that he loved her and that she loved him as well. She was not an ordinary girl, and not only for her looks because she was a true ace as a pickpocket, and knew how to use a dagger better than many men. She was slender and sinuous, agile as a cat, and just as silent, all qualities that made of her an exceptional thief.  
The two were part of a gang of orphans like them; those guys had been his family since his parents had died. They would have soon left those places, so unwelcoming for the less fortunate, to go live in Ferelden; perhaps in Highever where Duncan was born. His father was a Fereldan but the boy, with his dark skin and slightly almond cut of the eyes, looked exactly like his mother, a Rivaini. His parents had moved to Orlais almost immediately after his birth because his mother couldn't bear the harsh windy climate of Ferelden.  
But they had died when he was only a teenager, leaving him at the mercy of a cruel city.

One day his life was turned upside down.

Duncan was recruited into the Grey Wardens after having gotten into trouble: he'd been caught stealing from the wrong person. He was starving, that winter having been particularly long and harsh, and he was desperate; the situation had pushed him to risk more than usual. But the man in the room into which he had intruded, turned out to be a Grey Warden and caught him in the act, told him to return the stolen goods but Duncan refused. There was a scuffle where the boy had overcome and killed his opponent.  
While he was in jail waiting to be hanged, he was visited by a woman in armor with the most severe look the boy had ever seen in his life. He believed she was there to take him to the gallows, and resigned himself to his fate; but the woman said her name was Geneviève, a Grey Warden, and that she was there to recruit him.  
Duncan would have preferred being hanged rather than make such an end: the man he killed, before exhaling his last breath, had looked at him gratefully and thanked him!  
But there had been no way to rebel against the recruitment, the woman appealed to the Right of Conscription and dragged him out of the cell to subject him to the ritual.  
As he discovered later, the man he killed was named Guy and was Geneviève's fiancé, and she had recruited him because she hated him so much that was hoping he'd die in agony during the ritual, rather than on the spot, dangling on the gallows. Had he not died, she would have found a way to turn his life into a living hell, as she in fact did.

The girl asked to be recruited in order to be able to follow him but wasn't allowed.  
When he was about to leave, Duncan told her to forget him and said goodbye forever.  
The girl's body was found the next day, pale and drained of life, the last of her blood trickling into the filth of the alley.  
She had started running while crying, and didn't see the carriage that struck her without even trying to swerve. The wheels had swept her away, her leg cut off. She had cried out for help but no one had stopped, after all she was just a 'sewer rat'.  
She had dragged herself up to the point where had died while trying to reach the slums.

Duncan knew only months later, when he met an old gang-member friend on the way, who'd looked at him with disdain, spat in his face and discharged the news shouting curses of all sorts at him. As if it were his fault or his choice!

He had carried that weight for a lifetime.

-o-o-o-

'Did I reveal any other dark secrets during my troubled sleep?' asked half worried and half resigned.

Liv looked satisfied, knowing that she was holding the knife by the handle.

'Maybe...'

She said no more in revenge for his elusive way to answer questions.

Duncan remembered having dreamed of the Dragon again, this time no longer hidden in the Deep Roads of the Dwarven city of Orzammar, but directed toward Ostagar. He remembered the panic and confusion, shouting 'Protect the King!' but his voice was covered by the roar of battle. Then the Dragon had landed launching a blaze that had struck in full King Cailan, then his fellow Wardens, and, at last, him. He remembered a blinding white glow and having woken up suddenly.

He sighed heavily.

'It's time to leave, the sky is getting darker and darker and I fear that we'll soon be forced to proceed in the rain. If it starts down pouring, cutting to the south not to get too close to Lake Calenhad might be a good idea. If we hurry we could reach a small village along this path before tonight, there we can stay at the inn.'

They marched at good pace for a few hours without speaking.  
By mid-afternoon the sky began to throw down some spare drops that turned soon into a deluge. They wrapped themselves in their cloaks and went on walking in the rain.

At night they reached the village and hurried to the warm lighting coming from the windows of the inn. Cheerful voices and songs could be heard from the outside; as they entered, they were welcomed by a cozy warmth radiated by the large fireplace on the other side of the room.  
They took off their soaked cloaks and Ash thought best shaking her fur right over two customers sitting at the table near the entrance, but fortunately they were so drunk that they didn't get aware of anything.  
Liv was hungry but the first thing she did was ask the innkeeper for a vat of hot water. The fat man, wrapped in an apron so greasy that it was impossible even guess the color it was originally, stared at her in amazement with watery eyes. Then nodded and without a word disappeared behind a door to the rear.  
Duncan had approached the fireplace and let his hair loose from the tying behind the neck, and now was shaking his head to dry it. Liv joined the fireplace and watched him, his hair that fell disheveled on his face. She found him very attractive and wondered if she, instead, didn't look like a drowned rat.

'You should always wear your hair this way, it suit you. You look young!'

Young ... he had not felt that word resound with himself in too long. He began to try and recall the last time he had felt such ... maybe a few years before, with Isabela.  
That fury of nature had managed to make him forget for some time to be who he was.  
They had met one evening in an infamous tavern in Denerim, the woman had eyed him from head to toes and immediately invited him to board her ship under the pretext of a challenge to a duel. A woman Captain of a ship! And she looked also a skilled fighter.  
As she told him after their first fiery night together, she had won several duel tournaments. She was a dangerous and sensual woman, of Rivaini origin like him and with the same dark skin and sanguine temperament. They were both wanderers: she by sea, he on land, but when they happened to be in the same place they never failed to meet. Isabela was not the kind to miss tasty tidbits when they came to hand.  
But that was a long time ago and it didn't happen anymore. In recent years, Duncan's life was only made of long tiring journeys seeking new recruits, preparation of rituals, fighting with the darkspawn and increasingly frequent and intense nightmares.

The vat of steaming water was ready and Liv enjoyed the revitalizing bath as ever in her life. She needed it. Washing in the river was better than nothing, but a piece of scented soap and linen towels can make a difference. And the water was hot!

Duncan waited for her to dine together, standing close to the fire deep in thought, while his clothes were drying slowly at the spreading warmth of the flames.  
That girl was reviving in him things he had buried for long time, and on which he was no longer willing to return. His disaffection with life was helping greatly to deal with what he was required to, and now she was turning him inside out like a sock.

Liv came back into the hall, clean, refreshed, and dressed in a simple cream-white gown with a turquoise band tightening under her breast. She felt reborn and ravenous.  
They sat down at a table as close as possible to the fire to eat the only available dish of the evening: stewed beans and cabbage soup with brown-bread croutons.  
Both rushed on the food and the red wine, which was very good, much more than expected.

The dishes were now empty and the jug of wine much lightened.  
Duncan had long remained silent, his forehead pressed on his hand. He still hadn't tied his hair, though now dry, and it fell on his face in soft waves, being not as smooth as it looked when tied back, and was now reflecting the warm, golden light of the dancing flames. The widespread chatter of the room was dominated by the crackling of the fire, the warmth restoring his weary and chilled limbs, when he was suddenly, rudely awakened from his drowsiness by Liv's voice.

'Have you ever been in love with someone?'

Duncan looked taken aback.  
Liv Cousland had never been the type to hold her tongue and Duncan was getting annoyed by her boldness.  
He stared at her a while, wondering if he should reply or if it was time to get angry.  
His eyes grew sad again, and sat in silence staring at the dancing flames for quite a while before speaking.  
Then, with a resigned look decided to start talking; he told her of his life as an outcast, of how, as soon as recruited into the Grey Wardens, his comrades didn't even want to speak to him, and even refused to eat beside him, they called him 'sewer rat' and despised him.  
He had to struggle hard to earn the respect of those men through his actions, and it hadn't been an easy task. He never told anyone, and once started he could no longer stop, as if once lifted the lid he was dragged away by the violent flow of memories.

'Do you remember I told you that you remind me of someone?'

Liv nodded and opened her eyes wide as if trying to catch the news she was about to learn.

'She was young like you and just as beautiful and clever...'

He turned his gaze back to the hearth and said nothing more for a while, but then noticed that she was staring at him with huge blue eyes wide with anticipation.

'I was forced to abandon her to follow the Grey Wardens; it was impossible to do otherwise. I wasn't allowed to stay, and she wasn't allowed to follow me. She died the very day I got recruited.'

He looked almost angry. Reliving those moments was making him lose large part of his aplomb, and now he was again prey to a rage he believed having overcome, but that he clearly had just buried in a dark corner of his soul.

'Now you understand that love is not compatible with a Warden's life? Nothing of what's normal for other human beings is to us. We fight! There's no room for anything else.'

His tone of voice had lowered to a growl and he ended up beating a hand on the edge of the wooden table, which jolted causing a sudden clinking of dishes.  
He looked at her feeling guilty for having overreacted; it had taken him months, maybe years to make the concept his own.  
But he found with surprise that she was staring at him with her chin slightly leaned out and a look, rather than intimidated as he feared, almost outraged!

'I see! You bask in a way of thinking that allows you to be a Grey Warden without suffering, and you have given up living your life believing it's the only possible way. But this is not what I call _courage_! You might as well have your brain fried like a Tranquil or whatever they are called!'

Liv realized at that moment that she was exceeding the limit, but couldn't refrain herself, she wanted to hurt him as much as he'd hurt her the night before.  
As she spoke, the purple on her cheeks had become increasingly intense until they took on the same color of the wine she had drunk in (too much) abundance. A part of her felt a deep tenderness for the unfortunate boy Duncan had been in his youth, and was wishing to tell him words of comfort, but the girl hurt by rejection prevailed.

'True courage lies in fulfilling duty knowing that you can lose what you love at any time, and not giving up living to avoid suffering. You are right, I thought you were a hero and you're not! I thank you for giving me the time to figure it out!'

She abruptly left the table and walked away with firm step towards the stables without looking back.

There were no more rooms available, the innkeeper told them that with all the refugees coming from the south, people fleeing the advance of the darkspawn, there wasn't a single free bed in the whole Ferelden any longer. He offered to let them stay in the stables, and they wouldn't have to shell out a single copper. If nothing else, that man was honest, he wasn't taking advantage from the state of need caused by the mass exodus.

She threw herself on the straw, giving a snort of anger.

_Fine, tonight I'll have to wake up again with a start at the sweet sound of his voice shouting out that the Archdemon is coming!_

The straw prickled but she suddenly remembered what Bryce once told her: one night he had stopped sleeping at an inn and the sheets were full of fleas!

_One less problem_ she thought rolling nervously while searching for a comfortable position.

Liv was unable to fall asleep. She listened nervously to the murmur of the rain for a long time. The minutes passed, then the hours.  
Duncan hadn't returned, perhaps he'd gone without her?  
Now as the wine wore off and her anger dispelled she was filled with remorse.

_I've been hard ... too hard on him! Or should I rather say impertinent?_

Her father, brother, mother, they all had always loved her despite everything, indeed even more because of her temper, but the outside world was a different thing.  
She had badly offended him.

_Who am I to say the things I said? I never fought, I've always lived sheltered until yesterday. Heck, I am a fool! Duncan forgive me if you can..._

She decided to get up and go check if he was still in the hall, but in that very moment she heard him come in, and saw him plunge on the straw.  
He hadn't gone away without her, they would have traveled together to Ostagar, and she hadn't just burned the chance of a lifetime!  
These thoughts enabled her to fall asleep almost immediately.


	5. On the shores of Lake Calenhad

When Liv deserted the hall Duncan followed her with astonished gaze until she disappeared behind the wooden door that looked out over the courtyards.

Hero ... that word had lost a precise meaning to him long ago.  
Geneviève had voluntarily conscripted in the Grey Wardens because she dreamed of being a heroine, and had ruined her brother's life, then her own, and finally his.  
Her insane dream only led her to meet the end she had run into... awful, useless. Futhermore, she almost condamned the whole humanity to a hellish future.

Heroes were warriors such as Garahel, the elf who defeated the Archdemon in the Fourth Blight centuries earlier. And who remembered him now, apart from the Grey Wardens? Perhaps only a few old librarians fond of ancient history ... and were perhaps the Elven People enjoying better conditions thanks to the sacrifice of their own kin? Had people been somehow grateful to the race who gave birth to the savior of humanity?

No! They had forgotten.

Duncan had never asked to lead the life he found himself living, and hardly felt a hero. He was simply trying, as always, to perform the duties that fate had entrusted to him, and in his increasing moments of discomfort often found himself thinking that maybe humanity deserved to end up destroyed by the armies of darkspawn. During his lifetime he'd seen enough ugliness to make him hope sometimes that an Archdemon would put an end to all that with an ultimate huge blast.

He clenched his hands around the edge of the table, closed his eyes, trying to relax the muscles of his jaw. He'd often wondered why he was doing what he did instead of leaving everyone to their destiny. He realized in that moment that perhaps his pessimism didn't stem from just having to deal every day with an ungrateful humanity, but also from the awareness that fate had always been so stingy and unfair to him ... by now, whenever he went into battle, he hoped to find death. His life, lately, had been nothing more but a slow dragging toward that fateful moment. He was tired, and found out himself hoping that the Archdemon would show up at Ostagar as soon as possible, so that he could end his own earthly mission as Commander of the Grey Wardens, and get it over with.

-o-o-o-

Liv opened her eyes at the sound of many voices and saw the sunlight filtering through the wooden planks of the walls. With her, inside the barn, there was just Ash still sleeping at her feet, but not even the shadow of Duncan. She started again to fear greatly he'd left without her, jumped up and slipped into her armor beating all former records of speed, put her backpack on shoulder, darted out of the door and ran at full speed towards the inn.

She opened wide the door and burst into the room, but there were only a few men and women, dirty and unkempt, who were sitting at the breakfast table.  
The fireplace was lit since the air had turned pretty cool because of the rain, but Duncan was not there staring at the flames as she had hoped.

She ran into the street, her heart pounding, and saw him coming at a good pace with a jute sack on his back, full of what appeared to be apples.  
He saw her and saluted with a nod.

'I bought some stocks for the journey' said pointing to the bag.

His hair was tied again but loosely, so that a pair of tufts were left out of the binding and fell on either side of his face. He seemed having slept very little and his gaze looked more severe than usual.  
Liv stood still, feeling very ashamed, and this time couldn't manage to hide it.

'Duncan I ... I humbly ask you forgiveness for the words which I addressed to you last night' said staring at the tips of her boots. She sighed.

_No, this is not the way__. _

She looked into his eyes, and saw in the light of that bright morning that they were not black as she believed, but they were instead a very dark grey with shades of hazelnut color.

'I didn't have the right to say the words I said and I apologize!'

-o-o-o-

They started walking under a gray but dry and luminous sky.

'Today we shall return on the main road and head east towards Lake Calenhad. It will be a longer way but if it stops raining we'll travel much faster.'

As they proceeded toward east the trails became increasingly narrow and inaccurate, sometimes were deserted for a long time and partly deleted by the vegetation that grew in the middle, but Duncan seemed to know the area quite well and never got lost, showing no hesitation on the path to follow.

They didn't stop to eat, but nibbled on some apples while walking.

Duncan said it was because they had to regain the time lost during the previous days, but Liv got the impression that he wanted to avoid any opportunity to talk. She had indeed the distinct feeling that he was looking forward to finish the journey in order to get rid of her, and felt very distressed.

He didn't speak a word all day long.

At night they reached the main road, but abandoned it right away to head along a track leading down to the shores of the lake. It was very dark, a curtain of thick clouds covering the sky. Liv looked up and saw a cone of light silhouetted in the horizon, suspended in the solid black of the night. It was made of hundreds of warm-colored tiny spots of light flickering in their reflection into the lake.

It was the Tower of the Circle of Magi, a place which she only heard of and read about. She knew that the tower was built on a rocky island secluded in the middle of Lake Calenhad, and it was the golden prison where the mages were locked up from the very moment they began showing the first signs of magical powers.

Liv had several times thanked the Maker for not having given her a grain of the 'gift' that would have taken her away from family and the places she loved. Yes, because magic powers were manifested without following a precise rule and struck treacherously, making the victim a potential danger to the eyes of society. The unlucky one was picked up and escorted to the tower, where he was forced to spend the rest of his life as a recluse. Or, better, as a prisoner. There he would study the arts of magic under the constant and often hostile surveillance of Templars. A destiny that would have meant death to Liv, a wild animal locked inside those walls would have soon turned crazy like a lion in a small cage.

They walked down towards the banks. Now she could hear the faint lapping of waves on the shores and enjoy the distinctive smell of wood soaked in still water.

Liv would have stayed to enjoy the view that was totally new to her, but Duncan didn't seem willing to stop even for a moment.

There were lights coming from a building that stood near a small pier where a single wooden boat was docked, just little more than a nutshell.

When they got close to the low wide building Liv noticed a hanging signboard, half erased by the weather. That place seemed having seen better days, even the window panes were so dirty that it was impossible to see what lay inside. They stopped, Liv squinted trying to read the letters, become barely perceptible, on the sign that was dangling sadly upon her head.

'It's called "The Spoiled Princess" and I thought it was the most suitable place for your demands, mylady' said Duncan as he opened the creaky door, motioning her to enter hinting a half bow.

'After you!'

Liv smiled, happy for that little act of chivalry, and entered.  
As for his attempt to tease her, she had no intention to give him any satisfaction.  
The place was smoky and dirty, the few tables were placed close to the walls, but despite this the floor in the middle of the hall was covered with dirt.  
Before entering Liv was about to ask for another hot bath, but changed her mind as she made a quick picture of the situation.

An innkeeper with dull eyes was lazily rubbing a worn out broom in the small square of floor enclosed between the counter and the wall of the kitchen, out of which rose a sickening smell of burnt and overcooked cabbages.  
She stood motionless, staring at the bleak scenario for a few moments, then turned to Duncan a horrified look.

'Must I assume this is not to your liking?' he said with a wry grin half hidden by his mustaches, which in those days had grown longer and longer so that now were covering his upper lip.

'I hope you aren't actually planning to stay at this place!'

'Well, you cannot expect to lodge in luxury when traveling, you've better get used if you really want to become a Grey Warden. I can assure you this place looks like a royal palace compared to some holes in which I had to spend my nights in cities like Antiva ... '

With these words he seemed to get lost for a moment, again, in distant memories.

'Of course! So far I've been carried in a litter lined in embroidered silk pillows, right?'

Liv was more than willing not to give in.

Duncan surrendered and stopped taunting her.

'Anyway I must admit things have definitely gotten worse since the last time I was here' said while approaching the innkeeper.

Liv stood motionless wondering if she could ever find the courage to even order a drink, then watched in horror as the innkeeper took a big rusty key hung on the wall, and headed towards what should have been their accomodation for the night. Duncan followed him, although increasingly less confident.

She decided to go out in order to breathe some fresh air before being again forced to deal with the stench of that grimy hole. She opened the crooked and squeaky door and found herself surrounded by the scented breeze of the shore, right in the middle of a concert of croaking frogs mixed with the chirping of crickets.

Ash started chasing a rabbit and disappeared into the darkness of the night, while Liv walked to the waters. She wanted to rinse her weary face enjoying the magical atmosphere of the place. Magical ... maybe it wasn't just nature emanating a special aura!  
She knelt down and dipped her hands in the waters which were strangely warm, then immersed her face to erase all signs of the long day walking. She felt suddenly refreshed and looked again at the lighted windows of the circle tower. The girl magined being forced to spend her life within those walls ... no, she'd never make it!

Liv would have rather thrown herself directly into those deep waters, which would thus become her everlasting grave. Better a death in freedom than a life as a prisoner!

Now, however, her stomach was so empty that even the thought of a cabbage soup, unmade after too many boilings, enticed her. She stood up and headed back to the inn.  
She was about to open the door when felt seized by an arm, and a terrible stench of alcohol accompanying the words 'Hey sweet ass where you goin'?'

She was taken aback, she had never experienced anything like that.  
She was accustomed to attending people who knew her rank, men usually bowed before her referring to her as 'milady', and the only compliments she'd ever received up to that day had always been quite aristocratic, as well as extended in a polite and respectful way.  
She turned to face the man who was holding her arm and saw that he was young and tall, and he wouldn't have even been ugly if his face hadn't been spoiled by the lewd expression disfiguring his features.

'You cursed drunkard leave me alone!' she hissed at him with a scowl.

But that reaction seemed to excite her molester instead of dissuading him. His teeth were yellowed by the lack of cleaning and his breath would have stretched out a horde of darkspawn. Liv was overcome by disgust, but decided to warn him before striking, as the chivalrous code of honor required . Not that the fellow deserved nothing of the sort, but Liv was conditioned by her ethics. She gave him her warning through clenched teeth and without breathing, trying not to sense the stench.

'Let me go or suffer the consequences. I have a sword!'

But the man didn't seem willing to let her go so easily, he looked like one who hadn't seen a woman for too long.

'I have a sword too and it's all yours' he growled, grabbing the girl by the wrists with both hands and slamming her against the wall.

He was extremely strong for being just a regular customer of taverns, and Liv found herself helpless, her hands blocked and body immobilized by the man who had lain down on her. She felt his slimy tongue swiping on her neck, and the disgust was such that she managed to push him away; then tried to unsheathe the sword hidden under the cloak, but the man was again upon her with such speed and violence that she couldn't even reach the hilt.

She was thrown to the ground by the fury of the attack. _Why is this happening to me?_

-o-o-o-

Not seeing her coming back Duncan had left the inn to look for her, and nearly stumbled into the body of the man lying on the ground just beyond the door, immersed in a pool of blood. Poking through his pockets he found a letter, a notice of death addressed to the deserters from a group called 'Blackstone Irregulars'. Perhaps the man was hiding in that forgotten by the gods place but had been tracked down at last? It surely happened in the last minutes because when they had arrived that corpse wasn't there.  
He looked up and saw Ash, with a dead rabbit in her jaws, coming toward him.

-o-o-o-

It started raining again that night and it was impossible to lit a fire; they sought for a clearing as much as possible sheltered from rain, and eventually they stopped in a recess cut under a rock. There the ground was still dry also thanks to the branches of impressive trees that towered above them.

'If it keeps on pouring straight, we'll be sheltered by the roof of rock all night long' said Duncan tossing down his backpack.

'Now will you tell me what happened on the docks? Why did you kill that man and why did you leave by yourself? I've found you only thanks to the excellent sense of smell of your mabari, otherwise it could have taken me a whole day or more and I assure you I wouldn't have been as calm as I am now! '

Liv felt the desire to indulge in liberating tears but she didn't.

She stayed silent thinking of how she did everything wrong in life, feeling silly for having always given importance to the highest sentiments when her peers were usually more than happy in marrying old men who covered them with gold and jewels. She had always been proud of her way of understanding life, but now she was assailed by any sort of doubts and uncertainties of all kinds.

'You know, there are rumors that King Cailan wants to repudiate his queen since she's not able to give him an heir, and that he's looking for a young woman of aristocratic family ... someone like me.'

She spoke with the cool and calm voice of someone who, after the emotional stage of change, has nothing more to do but explain and put into practice.

'But in my foolishness I've never taken into consideration this opportunity, when my mother tried to tell me about it I left without even answering her. What a fool! I've always been horrified by compromises, and now the spoiled princess is traveling toward death in the rain, weary, dirty and hungry, mistreated by an old Grey Warden with a heart of stone and who's not even able to trim his beard!'

Duncan brought a nervous hand on his chin. In those days, between one thing and another, his beard had been the last of his thoughts.

'I'll follow you up to Ostagar but I won't join the Grey Wardens. I'll come before King Cailan and give him an heir one day. And to hell with you, the Blight, the Grey Wardens and with everything else!'

But Duncan wasn't impressed by these words. He approached with a gaze that Liv feared he was about to pierce her with his dagger.

'You will join the Grey Wardens willingly or not, should I kick you to the Joining or invoke the Right of Conscription!'

He had a look that Liv had never seen before, and for a moment she couldn't recognize the man she thought she knew.

Ash growled at him nervously.

'You'll have to tie me up or I'll take advantage at the first chance to flee!'

Duncan grabbed both her wrists approaching so close that when he spoke she could feel his breath on her face.

'You'll do no such thing! I'd be compelled to chase you and kill you and I don't want to do it!' he roared with flaming eyes. But let her go immediately when he saw she was about to lose consciousness. Liv's wrists were swollen and covered with bruises, and he stared at them shocked, thinking to be the cause of her harm and feeling damn guilty.

'I'm sorry...'

Liv took a deep breath.

'It was that man. He attempted to rape me and he almost made it'

Duncan started to say something, but she interrupted him abruptly.

'Truly would you do it? You'd have the courage to chase me... and kill me?'

Her sapphire eyes suddenly filled with tears and looked helpless.

'Sure, you can force me to join the Grey Wardens, but not even you would own my soul... nor my heart...'

She sat down and closed her eyes. She was terribly hungry and was beginning to feel cold.

'No, I could never do it... and may the Maker have mercy on me, if you wished to leave I'd let you go, even if it means going against the rules; I don't even like the thought of having to compel you... indeed I'd hate to...'

'But I don't want to fight anymore for the sake of a human kind stirring into a mud of vices, cowardice and betrayal. I just lost the only people who deserved living at the hands of a traitor and I'll find peace only with the death of Howe. From now on my mission in life will be avenging my parents. Just this!'

At the thought of her parents the lump in her throat, which had prevented the sobs to find their way out until then, eventually broke up. Liv curled up with knees under her chin, bowed her head and locked herself inside the cloak.

Duncan sat down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

'Do you believe that I chose this life of mine? I have been forced by the events, but I never pulled back. I do this willingly because there are places and people who are dear to me, and some of them look at me as an example to follow. I cannot abandon them or let them down and I will not do it.'

His eyes softened at the thought, as if he suddenly had put at peace with himself and the whole world.

'I want back the stunning girl full of fire and of unshakable beliefs I met in Highever, the one who saw the world in black and white ... she was helping me see something different from the grey canvas on which my existence has been unfolding for far too long. Is she gone forever?'

Liv picked up an apple from the sack and began biting it greedily.

'I thought you repented having recruited me, and that you couldn't wait to get rid of me.'

Duncan handed her a large chunk of cheese he bought at the inn and smiled.

'The Maker had been very clear about you, the chain of events that led you here with me on this journey cannot be the result of mere chance.'

After dinner Liv wrapped herself in the wolf pelt and lay down on the dry grass in that little sheltered corner of world, and fell asleep immediately while Ash was happily crunching the rabbit hunted by the lake.


	6. An ambush in the darkness

beta-reader: Kira Tamarion (thank you)

It was dark.  
Duncan, sleepless, his back against the wall of rock, was listening to the unceasing downpour of rain, which helped the flow of his thoughts with a mesmerizing effect. Despite the tiredness, the blessing of oblivion hadn't come, and he could do nothing but listen, helpless, to the voice echoing in his head.

_...I'll follow you up to Ostagar but I won't join the Grey Wardens... truly would you do it? You'd have the courage to kill me?... and to hell with you, the Blight, the Grey Wardens and with everything else... _

He heard Liv moaning in her sleep, her breathing growing uneven, broken; he opened his eyes and wondered, seeing the whiteness of her face in the moonlight. He hadn't realized it had stopped raining and that the clouds were now torn open, showing a bright moonshine that bathed everything in a silvery light.  
Again, as had already happened in Highever, he wasn't there to protect her when she needed it, and she had pulled out of danger by herself. Duncan was horrified at the thought of a creature so beautiful and pure touched by the hands of that dirty slob.  
He thought back to the night when he had rejected her ... He had felt embarrassed to embody the dreams of a young woman awaiting the love of her life, and he was sure she'd have soon regretted having thrown her purity away with him, a finished man who couldn't give her anything, let alone a future together. He recalled the night when he had met her for the first time; she had reached the Main Hall with that swaggering gait, red cheeks and intense gaze; she was enchanting, her matted hair and huge eyes, sweet and sassy at the same time... and his thought had immediately switched to Alistair.

Alistair... still a teenager the boy had been locked inside the Chantry against his will to force him into becoming a Templar, and Duncan had failed to prevent this from happening. He felt guilty toward the young man he had promised to watch over, almost two decades before; the only way he found to save him from a fate of unhappiness had been to recruit him through the Right of Conscription. From Duncan's point of view, meeting Alistair would be the best thing that could ever happen to a girl; but he was so naive, and so terribly inexperienced ... during his years of training as a Templar the boy had always lived closed within the walls of the monastery, and once recruited into the Greys his only acquaintances were other rookies like him, all men. With no reason, in the past several years very few women had joined the Order, and those didn't shine for their charms; which is why Duncan had been so eager to see Alistair's reaction to Liv, foretasting his dangling jaw and wide-eyed gaze.

-  
'I've decided at last to reach Highever in order to recruit lady Cousland' had told him the night he left.

'Oooh! I'm reeeeally looking forward to meet her! I picture some kind of stocky brute with muscles to be envied by a berserker, and maybe even bearded like the dwarven women of the legends' had said the boy between a chuckle and a grin.

'May the Maker have mercy on me then! See you in a few days at Ostagar. I wish you a good journey, and don't cause any trouble!' Duncan had answered with a grin before riding his horse headed north.

How many things had gone differently from the way he'd planned! His horse was left in Highever; even if he could manage to reach the stables somehow, leading him along the underground passageway would have been impossible. Who knows in what hands he was ended up... _I hope those bastards in Amaranthine treat horses well, at least!_  
Duncan lay down in the throes of exhaustion and closed his eyes, then wondered for how long he had stopped living for himself, not only in terms of his role as Commander of the Grey Wardens, guardian angel to Fiona's child, mentor of young recruits ...

-  
Roarrrr!

The Mabari's growling awoke her with a start in the dead of night. Liv jumped up and saw her dog landing a hideous bald humanoid resembling a corpse, or a man who had been poured hot oil on his head, and she was now tearing it apart having lots of fun.  
Liv grabbed her sword from the improvised hiding place, and leapt to her feet just in time to parry the blow of another humanoid who had burst out from the woods. She saw a pile of misshapen flesh not far from her face, glassy eyes without eyelids, skin in shreds around a missing nose. She screamed and hurled the thing away from her, hitting it with the hilt of her sword. It fell to the ground, stunned, and she beheaded it with a sharp blow.  
They were surrounded. It was time to wield the shield and get busy.

Liv had managed to recover the shield of her family during the escape from Highever. It was a very good one, showing the symbol of two intertwined branches of ash leaves, a far better weapon than the bucklers that were supplied to the guards of the castle.  
And now she was making it dance. The girl was just as deadly with it than with the sword, having learned to use it for offense as well as defense, and being she endowed with stout arms, she could throw enemies belly up with a shield bash.  
Luckily she hadn't taken her armor off that night; it was quite comfortable now, the leather had softened over time, shaping to her form.  
A few minutes later there was nothing left moving around them. Liv tossed her weapons to the ground as she realized they were smeared with a black sticky substance, smelly and revolting.

Clang!  
She heard the clash of blades coming from the thick of trees and ran at breakneck speed toward the noise. Duncan was yanking his sword from the guts of a monster, the last of many who lay around him. If there were survivors were certainly fled away.

'Darkspawn?' asked Liv knowing the answer.

'Yes ... and the further we go south the more likely we'll run into the damn things!' answered Duncan kicking the corpse of a Hurlock to check if there was something worthwhile looting, but he didn't see anything worth dirtying his hands further.  
His gaze traveled up to look at Liv.

'I woke up feeling them coming and hurried away to draw their attention towards me, but I see it was too late ... I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. Are you all right?'

It was raining again, but the stains of black blood didn't show sign of washing away.  
Liv was watching her armor disgusted.

'I'm fine but I keep getting the impression that you're trying to get rid of me!' she replied looking at him with a scowl, but a light behind her eyes betrayed a certain amount of fun in seeing him in trouble.

'I have just given you my apology. I am not unerring and the lack of sleep doesn't help. Are you hurt?'

'No. But I'm plastered all over with the most disgusting crap I've ever seen, and there is no way to wash it off! I can't get rid of it in any way... shall I have to cope with it for the rest of my life?' she asked sniffing a sleeve with wrinkled nose.

That tore a grin out of Duncan.

'You haven't by chance been drinking it, have you?'

Liv stared at him horrified.

'I'd never do such a thing, not even if threatened with death!'

'Why set limits to chance?' replied Duncan heading for the path leading to the road.

Liv didn't utter the curse that flashed through her mind since she was too busy rubbing her face vigorously, trying to remove the blood to prevent it from ending up inside her mouth.

'We have to get away from here, they'll soon be back with reinforcements.'

-  
It was still the dead of night. Proceeding under the pouring rain was hardly conceivable; they were soaked and chilled, too far away from inhabited areas to think of reaching an inn, and it was impossible to look for another sheltered corner in that darkness.  
After a seemingly endless hour-long walk Duncan stopped, suddenly noticing a spot blacker than night in a rock not far away, and pointed it out to Liv. Was it too much to hope for a cave?  
Indeed it was no more than a large hole, but it was more than they had dared hope for.

'Is there someone or something in there, Ash?'

The Mabari entered warily, silent as a shadow, and came out shortly after, shaking the stump that was heroically trying to perform the functions of a tail.  
It was so dark that they had to walk leaning against the walls as not to stumble.  
A sudden light brightened the environment and Liv winced, but then noticed that it came from a slim shiny object that Duncan was holding; it wasn't a torch and wasn't burning, but the tip glowed with a yellow light.

'It's a device that comes from distant lands, it burns even when moist. Effective, isn't it?'

The floor of the cave was carpeted with dry leaves, probably piled there by the wind. Liv slumped on the soft creaky ground and wrapped herself inside the wolf pelt, but it was soaked with rain. She was shaking and had no clue on how to keep warm. Ash understood and lay down beside her, but her hair was so soggy that the touch proved very unpleasant; the stench was that of a whole pack of mabaris, bloodstained and sweaty as she was. Liv groaned and curled up, shivering visibly.

Up to that point, she had been so tossed around by the events that hadn't been able to fully realize what had happened to her ... the attack on the castle, the death of her parents, recruitment and flight along the underground passages, and then love at first sight for Duncan and the pain of his rejection...  
At first she had believed that losing everything that bound her to the past was the price life was asking in return for something just as beautiful and precious that had been saved for her. But soon she became sadly aware that the loss of all that was dear to her would never have been compensated in any way. And to pain had been added more pain.  
Liv was ready to accept all this serenely when she believed that things do happen for a specific purpose, but now she wasn't sure of it anymore.

She felt increasingly feeble and wondered if she could ever recover the strength required to continue walking, then closed her eyes and sank to utter despair.  
Her mind recalled the hearth burning by the bedside in Highever, and a pang of homesickness overwhelmed her. She heard the voice of her mother reading her tales of ancient legends and heroes to put her to sleep, and bitter tears coursed down her cheeks mingling with the drops of rain that kept dripping from her soaked hair.

All of sudden a familiar crackling sound warmed her soul even before reaching the bones. All along the cave floor there were several branches and dry twigs, likely piled there by a preceding flood, and Duncan had gathered, stacked, and lit them somehow.

_May the Maker bless him!_

'Take off your clothes!' he commanded.

Liv made a noise that wanted to be a laugh, but turned out much closer to the braying of a donkey, being she twitching from cold; she had once hoped to hear those words from him, but reality was stubbornly persisting in being different from imagination.  
Duncan had started stripping off the several belts he held laced up at his waist, and these were not just for aesthetic reasons, as one of them made its absence felt dropping the scabbard of a dagger whose blade was in the shape of a snake, anotherone dropped on the ground the tunic held around his legs ... Liv followed him, pulling off her armor and boots, to finish wearing just a linen shirt that protected her skin from the rubbing of the stitchings. But it was wet and glued to her skin.  
Meanwhile Duncan, wearing only a pair of pants made in a soft fabric that shone in the light of the flames, kept throwing dry branches on the fire that was growing increasingly warm and pleasant. Liv was overcome by a swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Duncan's body was perfect, strong and brawny without being too stout, his bronze skin stretched over muscle masses, devoid of the slightest wrinkle; and his hair was loose over his shoulders again.  
She stood staring at him bedazzled for a while, but as soon as she managed to regain self-control she looked away. By lowering her head she realized that her nipples were clearly visible through the wet garment, and her first instinct was to flaunt herself leaving them as they were, waiting for the man to look up at her. But soon the memory of rejection prompted her to curl up with her knees up under her chin. She was angry with herself for failing to hate him as he deserved, and because she couldn't help but feel a strong attraction towards him, which she couldn't come to terms with.  
Duncan sat down with his legs crossed in a very elegant position, his bare feet leaning up on his knees, took his dagger and began to shorten his beard with slow precise gestures. It looked like he was used shaving on the road, and the edge of the blade sure cut like a razor because he finished pretty quickly.  
He put away the dagger in its sheath and began rummaging inside the leather bag lying on the ground in the middle of the pile made up of his several belts, until he pulled out some shriveled seedlings. At his touch they unleashed an aromatic scent into the air. He stood up and started poking around among the carpet of dry leaves looking for something, and only when two flat stones were in his hands he sat back looking satisfied, put the bits of dried plants on the largest stone and started to mash them with slow movements using the smaller one.

'It's never happened, having to run away like a thief in the night when recruiting. Most of my equipment has been left in the room where I was staying at Highever, and among those things I believe I'll never see again my stock of healing potions and my mortar. I'm not an experienced herbalist but I can prepare some basic poultices to patch up the wounds when on the go.'

He kept crumbling the herbs until obtained a fine powder which he poured from the surface of the stone in the palm of his hand, watched it looking pleased, then spat on it a couple of times and kneaded until obtaining a creamy poultice. He stood up and headed for Liv who was staring at him both fascinated and appalled.

'What are you planning to do with that?'

Duncan knelt before her and took her hands, turned them from side to side watching the purple spotted wrists, then smeared the mixture over them.

'Spending my life traveling allowed me to learn a few tricks ... this one was taught to me by an old friend of the Circle of Magi.'

Liv smelled an intense scent of musk mixed with flower nectar, and then an immediate feeling of relief. The effect was so sudden that within a couple of minutes her limbs resulted visibly healed.

'Thank you ...' she whispered, trying to hide the thrill of excitement in feeling his hands caress her gently while the poultice penetrated into the skin.  
Liv was visibly uncomfortable, and a smug smile crossed Duncan's face.

'Wanna know what I like about you? That you can be be the most kind and caring man in the whole Ferelden, and just a moment later the most annoying, irritating and violent. I hope you know it don't you?'

Duncan stopped stroking her hands.

'I'm sorry but I'm only a man. I have flaws and dark sides too like anyone else, and I'm not the hero of legends you believed me to be. Nevertheless I hope you want to continue being my friend even if your opinion of me is greatly lessened.'

He spoke defiantly and it sounded like wounded pride rather than sincere awareness.  
Liv would have liked to reply, but the thoughts were stirring inside her mind.  
He had understood her thoroughly even in this, how did he know?  
_Perhaps mine was nothing more than the foreseeable thought of a silly girl with her head lost among the clouds, just an easy guess... _  
She got the uneasy feeling that maybe she wasn't so special as had always believed.

'You're always so silent! I wonder if this is your way of being or if it's just with me. If so, I wonder why ...'

Duncan started to walk around the cave in search of other makeshift means. This time he collected some long and slender branches, tied three of them together at one end and placed them standing up to form a tall and narrow cone, on which he hung his armor. Then made anotherone and hung his wolf pelt on it, which started dropping down a considerable amount of water.  
Having done this, he sat back by the fire with his legs crossed and stared at her, his expression unfathomable.  
Liv's armor was still lying piled on the ground like a shapeless bundle, and so was her pelt. The girl jumped up with an angry grunt and began to look for other branches to build a structure like those, which now stood fiercely in the middle of their temporary abode. She fumbled trying to tie the top of three twisted branches with a piece of stringy bark that didn't want to cooperate, and at last she cried out one of the colorful curses that had learned from her unlucky aggressor.  
Duncan's laughter echoed through the walls of the cave, and Liv watched him frustrated.  
But she had never heard him laugh like that and couldn't help but laugh too, in fact she was feeling rather clumsy, and funny too.  
Duncan stood up to help her.

'The truth is that every time you open your mouth my beloved convictions are overturned, and you oblige me to spend many hours thinking of things that I believed were solved a long time ago. One thing is certain: you are a true hurricane Liv Cousland, and one cannot hope to run into you without getting disheveled!'

Liv cleared her throat awkwardly and hung her wolf pelt while humming a jarred tune.  
Finally she spoke.

'When I told you yesterday that I wasn't going to join the Grey Wardens you frightened me. Is a single recruit so important? If so, the situation is more desperate than I thought, or maybe you're overestimating my abilities ...'

Duncan's eyes suddenly became serious again.

'In fact a week ago I should have reached Orzammar to look for recruits among the dwarven people, but to the last I decided to send there two friends of mine ... who knows, maybe they are now traveling to Ostagar at the mercy of a dwarven madcap with a peppery temper like yours, may the Maker have mercy on them!'

_Very funny! Another joke like that and I order my mabari to devour you!_

'I chose to travel to Highever why, you may not know, but lately there has been much talk about the daughter of Bryce Cousland. It's reported that your father hadn't given you permission to enroll for the last fencing tournament in order to prevent the humiliation of the best veterans, and incurring the hostility of neighboring Bann...'

Liv gasped. She had gone very close to quarrel with her father that time. She had prepared diligently in order to win that tournament, and at the last moment Bryce had informed her that he didn't intend to let her take part in it. She had addressed him with words which she later had bitterly regretted.

'I was intrigued to see you in action' he went on 'but there's another reason. I knew your father for a lifetime and I knew what he was made of. You don't encounter a man with such sense of honor every day, and I was sure he'd taught his values to his children. Know how to swing a sword is not enough to become a good Warden as I already told you, much more than that is needed...'

Liv fell silent staring into the flames. Her father and Duncan had been friends for a lifetime but she had never met him before, while she had met far too many times people like Howe. She had often wondered how her father might enjoy the company of that man; perhaps the memories of the battles they had fought together in their youth had prevented him to judge Howe objectively.

'I believed that to become a good Warden you had to wish it. I've always desired to be an example for those who would come after me, as well as the heroes who have inspired me since childhood. In fact, mine was never a real choice; I always felt a boundless admiration for epic deeds and brave men. But I've got it all wrong!'  
Liv slowly shook her head.

Liv felt her own beliefs collapsing, her perception of life in black and white getting tinged with many shades of gray that she had never seen before, or that she had never taken into consideration. And she wasn't happy about it at all. She felt confused and lost. She wasn't the old Liv any longer, but not even someone else ... not yet.

'Reality is much more complex and dangerous than you can imagine, this desire of yours to become a heroine could lead you to the wrong path... and I'm talking from personal experience!'

Duncan still had before his eyes the vivid memory of his mentor transformed by the corruption to which she herself had chosen to succumb. Geneviève had tried to change the course of history, believing the lies of a darkspawn had forced the hand of fate going far beyond what was her duty as a Grey Warden, and she had nearly condemned the whole of humanity to a hellish fate.  
In that crazy mission everyone had died but Duncan and Fiona, and he had been the one to save the day, though few knew and even fewer were grateful to him for that.  
He was appointed Vice-Commander of the Grey Wardens less than a year after recruitment, and this had filled him with pride. He, the sewer rat, the street thief who dared to kill old Guy, had made a career quickly. He had had his redemption, and with interests.  
He and Fiona had returned together to the Weisshaupt Fortress, he had remained close to her throughout her whole pregnancy by providing a shoulder for her to cry on. Had been a friend to her, then a brother. And after the baby was born had accompanied her on the long journey to hand him over to his legitimate father. The Grey Wardens, by contract, had to give up children born after the joining. But it hardly ever happened, and the few times they were recent recruits, in which corruption was at an early stage.  
But Fiona had renounced her child for other reasons: she was an elf, in addition to being a mage, and she didn't want her definitely adverse social status to weigh on his future. Before embarking on the journey back to Weisshaupt young Duncan had confessed his love to her but Fiona had broken his heart, rejecting him. Shortly after the girl had left the Grey Wardens to go to the Tower of the Circle of Orlais, where she would become First Enchanter.  
King Maric had enabled the Order to return in Ferelden after two hundred years of exile. So Duncan had decided to remain in order to find new recruits. They were already few before, but after the adventure in Deep Roads, in which nearly all had died, and the subsequent abandonment by Fiona, there was a great need to restore the Order. Thus it was that young Duncan began, and continued during the next twenty years, to travel and recruit, leading the Grey Wardens of Ferelden from the few initial units to tens of individuals. And it was thanks to his efforts if some of the prestige lost in the last two centuries by the Order was reestablished with great effort, a little at a time. But there was still much to do.


	7. Until the End

When Liv woke up several hours later, the sun was already high overhead and the sky was a deep blue, fully clear of clouds. She sat up with some effort, her limbs ached from hours spent lying on the bare ground. The fire was now extinguished, Duncan wasn't there, and Ash lay down sleeping soundly at her feet. But the mabari was violently shivering, and judging by the convulsive movement of her paws, looked like she was running away from something downright scary.

"Ash!"

She lifted her head, looking startled.

Liv told her "It's all right come here!" but she didn't move, and lowered her head after throwing an ailing feeble whimper, with sad eyes. In that very moment Liv felt the crackle of dry leaves under the weight of Duncan's boots. He entered at a fast pace, bent over before the beast and forcibly threw her jaws open feeding her a handful of crushed herbs.

"This is the last one, I promise!" he said smiling down at her.

Ash made a few grimaces but swallowed the mouthful without a whimper, then licked the palm of Duncan's hand, which was now soaked in a bright green, and stared at him with eyes full of confidence. He took her big head in his hands and placed his cheek on the big brown nose. Ash interpreted the gesture as a request for affection and licked his beard with commitment.

"I've already washed my face" he said laughing, relieved to see her healthy again.

Liv, who silently observed the scene, cleared her throat waiting for an explanation before being forced to ask for. Duncan turned to her. He looked very tired but determined to start walking as soon as possible.

"You can slip on your armor, it's dry. The mabari can walk and we have to move" he said throwing an apple in her direction like every morning.  
But before Liv could say a word, he had already gone out, followed by an adoring shadow.

They covered a good distance in a few hours without meeting a soul.  
The entire time Liv walked in silence, waiting for Duncan to tell her what had happened, but her hopes were in vain as usual. It seemed that between her mabari and the Grey Warden was born a deep understanding, an empathy from which she felt excluded. Ash was the last friend she had left on Earth, and Liv felt very hurt by her sudden and unexplained abandonment. She felt alone as ever in her life, and despite the brazen beauty of that spring with all its vivid colors, the deafening background of birdsongs, and breeze scented by the resin of pine trees warmed by the sun, the young Cousland sank into a deep gloom, and desired to reach her loved ones wherever they were, even in the Fade.

After a few hours of walking, the scorching sun forced them to leave the main road to find comfort under the thicket.  
They sat under the shade of a huge beech tree with smooth silver bark.

Duncan pulled out a chunk of cheese from his backpack and tried to offer a bite to Ash, who pretended to chew it in order to avoid offending him, but in the end dropped it on the ground, ruefully.

"Hmm ... You're recovering quickly but I cannot ask too much" he said rubbing the flat big head to let her know he wasn't angry, and the mabari performed a waggle dance.

"You are indeed a nice couple!" Liv exclaimed bitterly, getting up to grab a piece of cheese and an apple, since no one seemed notice that she was there too. She also took the water flask, but it was completely empty. She threw another colorful curse, and turned to head for the promising murmur of a stream that flowed nearby.

"The darkspawn blood is poisonous."

Liv stopped dead.

"Your mabari came close to dying, but I was ready to face this eventuality and kept an eye on her."

The feeling of gratefulness was so intense that Liv found difficult to even breathe. She hadn't noticed anything, and the thought of having risked losing her Ash without even being aware of it made her feel extremely guilty.

"Last night I looked after her as I could, managing to avoid the worst, and she's just showing me her gratitude" he pointed out, giving a tired smile at the huge beast, who was watching him attentively, as if she understood every single word he said. Duncan had spent the entire night trying to save the life of her mabari, making back and forth between the cave and the woods, and, moreover, moving so quietly to allow her sleeping. The thought of him taking care of her friend with such gentleness and dedication sorely awoke in Liv the old feelings she had towards him. Feelings that, in fact, had never died, just buried under a pile of wounded pride and resentment.

"Ash!"

The mabari ran to meet her and threw herself belly up, devoid of the slightest dignity, writhing happy under the strokes of her human friend who was fighting back tears.

"Don't do nonsense like drinking darkspawn blood ever again!"

-  
They heard a hypnotic gurgling a short distance away, and headed toward the tempting sound. The creek slid down a gentle slope, creating small waterfalls followed by crystal clear pools. Liv buried her face in the cool waters and drank until her stomach hurt. The cold weather of the previous days seemed a distant memory. She dipped the canteen, which filled up with a loud crackling of bubbles on the surface, closed it and turned abruptly to throw it to Duncan. She wanted to prove his reflexes, so as he had always enjoyed doing throwing apples without giving prior warning. It was her way of thanking him, her way to lift the mood; not much to tell the truth, but Liv had never been good at these things. She froze with her arm in mid-air just in time.

He was sitting with his eyes closed, his head tilted, leaning against the trunk of the willow tree whose branches arched over their heads to get down tickling the waters of the stream. She stood motionless, silent, looking at him for an indefinite time. His weary face, lulled by the hypnotic murmur of the creek and caressed by the fragrant breeze of that warm afternoon, now looked serene. His black hair shone, struck by the brightness of sunlight that filtered through the leaves, moved by a gentle breeze.  
Liv realized that throughout their travel had never seen him sleep. She was always the first to fall asleep in the evening, and he was always up and ready to go when she woke up in the morning. Yes, there had been that night when she had heard him scream in a nightmare, but she hadn't bothered to wake him up. She had just turned the other way, and cried until falling asleep again.

Liv suddenly left thoughts aside and silent as a cat sat down beside him to prevent his back from slipping down, thus sparing him a rude awakening. In that moment she perceived him to be vulnerable and enjoyed being his support, wishing it was forever, if only he had allowed her to... She lay for hours stroking his hair, his face in her hands, resting in her lap. Slowly she bent over him like the branches of the willow tree, bowing her neck until she could feel his breath on her face, until she could sense the scent of his skin. She closed her eyes. Her lips gently leaned on his forehead, which now was smooth and free of the furrows caused by concerns.  
She wished she could have, sooner or later, the opportunity to tell him that she wasn't the kind to throw judgments like she did in the previous days, and that she now loved the man he actually was and not the picture she had made of him.

The mere thought of the homeless street kid that Duncan had been gripped her heart, picturing the starving orphan compelled to thievery killed her, and his life hadn't taken a turn for the better even after recruitment... _too much pain in your life, my poor Commander of the Grey Wardens_!

What a difference from the stiff-looking soldier with an aura of authority she had met a few days ago, as well as from the Rivaini pirate with a captivating gaze that she had managed to pull out of him. Her instinct told her that something had changed but she dreaded another rejection.

_I love you so much but__ I'd prefer you kicked my shins rather than see that sorry smile on your face again!_

-  
It was late afternoon but the sun was still high.  
They took off their armor and plunged in, shivering. The mabari, to their luck, had no intention to soak herself and strolled on her own through the woods. Liv started rubbing vigorously using the piece of soap she got at the inn. Before leaving, she had left a copper on the counter, the price of a whole cut, and the innkeeper had thought of a tip.

She smiled while humming in a way so genuinely out of tune that Duncan thought she was doing it on purpose, and with a slap on the surface filled her mouth with water, making her cough like a donkey.  
As soon as she was done spitting, Liv shouted "Revenge!" throwing the piece of soap away. This ended up into the stream with a goodbye_plunk_, followed by Duncan's "No!" He ducked, disappearing for a few seconds underwater and emerging shortly after doubly defeated, since the soap was gone and so were Liv's legs, which he had sought in vain to pull her underwater. He saw her on the shore, the heavenly body silhouetted under a wet dress, and he suddenly forgot wanted to take revenge for having just been forced to scratch the dirt away with the blade of his dagger. She was laughing like a child, her eyes brighter than the water droplets that beaded her skin.  
Duncan stared at her entranced for a few moments, then closed his eyes and breathed deeply, slowly.

Liv looked at him too. He was different, his features expressing a whole new serenity, his movements smoother and the furrows on his eternal frown were gone. He seemed finally capable of enjoying the flavor of life, and looked much younger now that he was reconnecting to the broken thread that bound him to this world. His eyes held a somewhat roguish gaze that his long hair and golden earring emphasized, giving him a piratesque look . He caught up on the shore and resorted to all his strength of will not to hold her and kiss those thriving breasts.

_Clear your mind__..._But it was too late, the lid had been lifted and emotions and memories assailed him like a tornado. He thought back to the day they'd met and rescued her from the attack on her home. He then considered her a mere recruit, as well as a young woman to rescue and take care of like the father she had just lost. After that he had become her mentor, and this had complicated things greatly. But now he was overwhelmed by her presence. She had entered his soul by bashing the door, had taken him apart, then analyzed and reassembled him. Eluding all his well-tested barriers, she had exposed his flaws and brought to light his inner self, freeing it from the locked chest where it had been kept hidden for years. A stunning woman held the key, and had used it without asking permission. A woman ... no more his friend's daughter, no more a new recruit or a girl to take care of. Liv was _also_ those things, but first of all she was a strong, beautiful, intelligent, brave, and resourceful woman who... loved him? Or so she had said ... but was it still the case?  
Throughout all his warden life, Duncan had never heard those words from anybody, and didn't declare them to anyone ever again after Fiona.

He opened his eyes and found Liv was watching him. He realized he desires her with all his being, more than he remembered was possible. Maybe in a few days he would die facing the Dragon, and maybe she would suffer the same fate during the Joining, or shortly after, in battle. What was the point of losing the last precious moments that life could give them?

But his pride resurfaced, and he realized he couldn't tolerate being rejected as he had done with her a short time before.

Pride had always been one of his weaknesses, one of the most difficult wars he had ever dealt with, and in order to win that war a part of him had had to succumb along with the demon who possessed him.

He realized to have likely thrown away one of the few gifts life had offered him, and that thought took his breath away for a few moments.  
He would never have even remotely imagined that fate would make him such a gift right now, in the last days of his life, by which time his only thought was to fix things for those who would remain. But clearly the Maker had a weird sense of humor and had decided to mess up all his plans.

"Hopefully in two days we will reach Ostagar"

At this news Liv felt a lump in her throat. _So perhaps__ I have only two days of life left, and I'll die without knowing what it feels like to be loved by a man ..._

"Tell me about Joining" She said it as soon as she was sure of being able to speak without her voice betrayed her distress, because now she knew. She had brought the pieces together and had reached a conclusion, the right one. She knew her mabari well and hers wasn't simple thankfulness, then she had succeeded, with a seemingly thrown in exchange of jokes, to make him confess the truth, and it hadn't been a difficult task.

Duncan turned his gaze toward the horizon and closed his eyes against the sun now low, then ruffled his hair dripping with water, bowing his head to one side. He usually dodged skillfully the questions coming from the new recruits, but in that moment, in the light of the clear sky, nothing looked too obscure to be hopeless. And then with Liv all was so damn different! Not only did he feel he could tell her anything, he felt the need to. He realized he was longing to unveil the darkest secrets and share the weight of responsibility with her.

She had shown, in more than one occasion, to have what it takes to pass her the torch, and he was sure she would have made a career in the Order, she wasn't the kind to flee before responsibility, and certainly not before danger.

Liv had escaped unscathed an attack in the middle of the night by her own strength,and she had only complained about the filth on her armor. Duncan now knew it wasn't a lack of consciousness, nor carelessness. Liv Cousland was not a reckless youngster but a wonderful creature of genuine courage, and if on the one hand he wished to share with her his Grey Warden life, with everything that went along with it, on the other hand he balked at the thought of staining her with the Corruption, condemning her to a short life full of sacrifices.

"The Joining can kill as you have already figured out" he said, but, seeing her eyes veil with anguish he hastened adding "but if I know you well you will survive. I will not go into too much detail but the Corruption will come upon you and put you in contact with the darkness. If last night I sensed the coming of darkspawn it wasn't because I am light sleeper or have a better hearing than yours. A Grey Warden senses their presence in a place, you'll know how close they are and how many. I will not lie, your life will change dramatically and you will be in permanent war with your darkest side. Recurring nightmares will come, and over time the Corruption will..."He broke off and sighed heavily in search of the words to say, but found them not.

Duncan was seized by a deep sense of guilt. He had never revealed such things to his new recruits, since everybody would have taken advantage on the first opportunity to run away like all the demons of the Fade were after them.

Everybody but Liv, her shoulders were broad enough to withstand anything. Or perhaps not?

"But... you told me you couldn't love me, nor any other woman ... is it because of the Corruption that is in you?" She asked, not bothering to hide the tears running down her face._ If so, my life is already over wheter or not I'll survive!_

_Love_. The word had always meant only suffering and forced separation to Duncan. He looked at her. She was standing there in front of him, motionless, waiting for him to finally decide to surrender to the fate that had brought them together.

"No... don't you worry, that has nothing to do with the Corruption but just with me and with what I had become before you ... before I..."

What was the point thinking of a future when he was about to condemn her to death? Liv was there with him now, they would have shared their days of battles and sacrifices and would have gone to war together. What did it matter how much time was left them to live... and then, who is lucky enough know?

He turned to her conveying the thoughts with his eyes, and two huge blue sapphires let him know she desired nothing else. He took her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks gently, his rough fingers caressing the edge of her lips. He closed his eyes to savor every sensation given by the contact with her smooth, soft skin, following the edges of her cheeks with a slow, delicate touch. He leaned his forehead on hers and stood a few moments breathing her scent, like before tasting a good wine. There was no moonlight, nor the stars, there wasn't the crackling of the fire nor the singing of crickets, but he wanted that kiss to be unforgettable for both, wishing to savor every moment, every sensation. Liv threaded her fingers into his beard and began stroking it, communicating with each move thoughts and emotions that words couldn't tell.

One breathing the breath of the other, their lips approached to join, while time stood still.

WOOOOF!

Two huge muddy paws left their mold on Liv's petticoat at the height of her buttocks, unbalancing her against Duncan who was ready to hold her without getting unbalanced backwards in his turn.  
The enchantment was broken, eyes opened suddenly wide and time began to flow again.

Beta-reader:Kira Tamarion


	8. A night to remember forever

- About the present-tense sections mingled with the past-tense:  
I take full responsibility for it. I loved it when it came to describe Liv's 'outside of time' emotions, it served to underline that time is standing still for her. I have detached those sections from the rest as if they were 'hanging in the air' ... it's a kind of 'literary experiment' and I like it, but I understand it can't work for everybody. Comments are welcome ;)

...

Again, it wasn't like Liv had envisioned in her dreams, but she laughed like a child while they held each other, and their eyes were glistening with joy when he seized her hips to whirl her like a step in a dance.

"Tonight in the moonlight! With a campfire, stars, and everything else just like in your dreams ... but now duty calls and we have to get moving, though I wish it weren't so..." He sighed.

"The fire? In this heat? And what do you know of my dreams?"

Duncan laughed. "Well, you've read me like an open book, but I've done likewise with you... and then I believe this is what all girls in love dream of for their first kiss. Am I wrong?" he replied winking and giving her a cunning grin.

Liv watched him as if she were seeing him for the first time, because the man standing in front of her wasn't the stern army officer she'd met in Highever, but a boy in love, full of life, with eyes that shone with a light that had been hidden for far too long.

It was delightful getting back on the road with the promise of an impending romantic night.  
They proceeded at a good pace, but still they walked hand in hand, whenever possible. For the first time since they had started their journey, they went on talking amiably, getting to know each other a bit more, telling funny stories and unveiling lightweight subjects like favorite colors or the most beloved books.  
They shunned the talk of battles, rituals, or wounds from the past. If these were to be their last days, they had to be worth a lifetime.

The encounters with other travelers became more frequent as they proceeded southwards. After receiving the first intrigued glances at his armor and shield, Duncan had decided to dress in his shirt sleeves. He had no intention of being asked what the Grey Wardens were doing, let alone being insulted because the invasion of darkspawn was now out of control and hundreds of people had to abandon their homes and lands. These were mostly refugees fleeing northward, and they all felt obliged to warn them not to proceed further, surprised that there was still people around who didn't know that heading south meant death.

They walked until dark. There would be no darkspawn, neither harassing dogs, and not even the rain to break the spell.  
They were confident, fate owed them.

Evening came full of promises, with a starry sky, the singing of crickets and a giant sickle-shaped moon that shone with a silvery light.  
They left the road and threw each other several glances for what was awaiting them, shortly thereafter. They walked until found a glade fully surrounded by trees except for a steep rocky slope on one side, ending in the dark waters of the lake.

They set down their equipment. Duncan opened his backpack and, without warning, threw an apple at Liv, who caught it swiftly. Ash was told to stand guard a few dozen yards away within the thicket, and she knew forthwith what to do. Liv had taught her since she was a puppy. There was a crispy breeze but the sky was clear, and if a storm was coming it was still far away.

Once back in the glade, Liv found that Duncan had built the usual wooden structure, enclosing a pile of dry leaves, that soon broke out in a bright-orange blaze. She wore the white gown she had found at the inn, forgotten, piled up on the ground, probably by a girl on the run. The innkeeper had been quite happy to let her take it since his wife could have never gotten into that dress, not even with the help of magic. It was simple, with flared sleeves, and fastened below her breasts with a girdle of turquoise fabric. Just a little hint of femininity but enough to make her look an otherworldly creature.

She walked towards him barefoot, silent as a rustle, and waited for him to notice her. The fire crackled and the flames soon reached the top of the bonfire. Duncan turned to join her, but instead found himself before a numinous being who watched him with wishful eyes. In the throes of wonder, he gazed at her, his dark eyes lost in hers for a few moments. Then his lips uttered "I love you". He stopped breathing, as if bewildered by the power of his own words, then he rested his forehead on hers. This was her first kiss and it had to be perfect. From now on, everything had to be perfect; every single moment had to be worth the sacrifice demanded by sharing her life with a man like him.

... Liv's fingers intertwine with his loose hair as they savor a moment of eternity when their lips join. She falls into Duncan's enfolding arms. The touch of his lips is just one of the sensations she leaves herself slowly drown in. The warm scent of his skin overwhelmes her while she feels his rock-hard muscles twitch under her caresses, and the quickened pulse of his heart within her breasts as she presses against his body.  
"I love you too" she says before their lips join again.  
Their movements lose their delicacy, hands feverishly cupping heads, clutching faces, as if in a frantic dialogue where they both try to express in a few moments all they had been unable to tell each other.  
Duncan holds her so tight he lifts her off the ground.  
Liv's mouth parts like a rosebud in the warmth of the sun, longing for a deeper contact with his, every move she makes is conveying the desire to merge with his body. Their tongues meet too, and soon they are lost in a passionate dialogue that words couldn't tell.

They stopped kissing to take breath.

Their hearts pounding, their eyes smiling at each other, Duncan started to say something but words died on his lips... _I want you_ ... he said it through his lips gently nipping at her soft skin, following her jawline down to her chin. Then, suddenly, he assailed her white neck with such a passion that appeared he intended to devour her.  
If she wasn't in his embrace, Liv would have collapsed to the ground, deprived of the slightest sense of balance.

...Helpless, as limp as a rag doll in his arms, she feels his strong hands find their way under her dress and climb gently up her body to envelope her breasts. His rough but delicate fingers linger on her nipples, and the sensations are more intense than she had ever even imagined. She hears her own voice follow her deep sighs, but she doesn't hold back, and soon finds herself lifting her arms to invite him to slip off her dress.

Liv keeps her eyes low, feeling uncomfortable.  
It's the first time in her life she stands naked before a man, and she can't help but wonder how many other women Duncan has seen before, and hope to live up to his expectations. He lifts her head gently; she looks shyly at him and finds the answer in his eyes. Now at ease, she attacks his brawny neck with her lips.

It was something she had craved since the beginning of their journey, when she wasn't wishing to throttle him, and had started to fear would never happen.  
She gave vent to all her desire in those few moments, until she felt him shudder, and mind-blowing emotions overwhelmed her. She wished him to savor, all at once, the happiness he had missed in life, as if there would be no tomorrow.

...Longing to feel the touch of his skin on hers, she slowly takes off his shirt, kissing and caressing his perfect body as she undresses him, her passionate gaze saying more than a thousand words. Duncan lifts her up and lays her gently upon the soft wolf pelt. For a while he simply enjoys the view of her body, then lowers himself on her. He lingers on her breasts, then runs his tongue down to her belly, which clenches under the avid touch...

Liv winces.

...Such a level of intimacy bewilders her, but what she's feeling is more delightful than she could have ever imagined, or dared hope for. She leans her head back and stares at the starry sky while he makes her entire body quiver. Her response excites him further; with a soft growl he grips her thighs firmly urging her deeper against his mouth, until her body takes over control and writhes, throbbing. She hears sounds come out of her own mouth, growing along with her passion, to which she surrenders until it bursts into something too hot to bear, and she clenches the edge of the pelt, biting into it to muffle her cries.

...She lies still, her face sweaty and disheveled while she stares at the flames that dance in the dark while Duncan gets rid of his silk trousers. His body's pleasantly hairless, his bronze skin taut over rock-hard muscles.  
Liv feels her legs being lifted. Though she doesn't understand what he wants to do, she leaves herself be guided without tensing. His soft, scorching lips lean on her ankles in a gallant gesture, to climb then slowly up her body until he reaches her pert nipples, on which he lingers further. This triggers in Liv a fierce desire to feel him inside her.  
"I want you" she says looking at him with doe eyes.

She knew the first time making love could result in pain, but she trusted Duncan, who never stopped kissing her as he gently found his way inside her body. He kissed her lips, turned a bright red, her white cheeks, and then her eyelids, that clenched into a grimace of pain when virginity abandoned her forever. She stifled a cry, hiding her face inside the hollow of his neck, but pain vanished soon and their eyes met, sharing messages of infinite unity. They were one now, both savouring a glimpse of eternity.

...She smiles sweetly at him as Duncan begins pushing inside her, slowly, with deep thrusts. She writhes to welcome him, holding his neck with fingers tucked into his loose hair as she tries to follow him. Their bodies are now dancing under the moon in perfect harmony, shrouded in a silvery glow, intertwined like there is no tomorrow.  
Feeling a strong desire to look at him, Liv opens her eyes and is enchanted by the vision of his enraptured espression. His features disclose his bliss and his ruffled hair falls on his face giving him a savage look. She shudders, her body sending waves of intense and widespread pleasure.

Sensations took over.

...They join their hands, fingers interlocked to further strengthen their union, their breaths follow their increasingly fiery rhythm. Liv clutches the hips of her handsome warrior while smothering her cries into his mouth, as they both lose control. Hands clinging, legs tightened in a passionate embrace, excitement overwhelms her like a hurricane when she hears his deep voice follow his sighs, realizing they're lost in bliss together.

-o-o-o-

They laid sweaty and breathless, their still hot bodies holding each other.  
They were messy but filled with joy. Her disheveled hair plastered on forehead, Liv leaned her head on his chest, listening to his strong steady heartbeat.  
Duncan pushed aside a lock of hair off her face and felt a teardrop fall onto his skin.  
"Aren't you happy?" asked in surprise, somewhat worried.

In response, he got a few choked sobs, together with an even greater amount of tears.

"I don't care if I'll die tomorrow because what I've lived's worth a lifetime!" she whispered brokenly.

Duncan held her close and sighed deeply. "And, if I'll have no tomorrow, I will no longer have regrets, and I can thank only you for this my lovely hurricane..."

"What? No! Our life together has just begun!" she replied almost outraged. "But ..." her voice then became resolute. "If so, I'll cherish the memory of these moments like a treasure from where I'll draw the strength to accomplish your... our quest. I promise."

_Together until the end ..._  
These were words in which he no longer believed. Not for himself.

They fell asleep as they were, naked and entwined, and slept until the campfire was extinguished and the fresh breeze of the night awoke them. They wrapped themselves together under Duncan's giant wolf pelt, and nestled in each other's arms for warmth. But the night was young and they took the opportunity to make love again. This was Liv's time to explore his body, and she started kissing the long, slender toes of his strong but elegant feet, then slowly moved up his brawny legs, and finally did her best to return the pleasure she had received a few hours before, trying to overcome her inexperience with all her love. She listened carefully to his responses to figure out what he enjoyed, and delighted in his sighs and low growls, but suddenly he stopped her, to lie down on her and start a new night dance.

They fell asleep again, and woke up at dawn. The sun had not yet appeared on the horizon but the sky was already red. They wished each other a good morning and stayed lying down, fondling each other, making idle lovers talk until they found themselves making love again, and this time she was the one who lead the dance.

The sun peeped out the horizon and the light of day brightened their faces.  
They jumped up and dressed, and made the same preparations for the journey as they had other mornings, but this time while remaining immersed in a dreamy mood. They ate a breakfast of bread and fruit, but this time Liv felt as she floated a few feet off the ground. She whistled to call Ash, left on guard throughout the night to sleep hidden among the trees. The dog immediately appeared from the thicket with a smiling snout, and began gnawing, happily, her piece of black bread that was as hard as a stone.

They left shortly after and walked briskly along the road, which now turned sharply eastward to follow the southern branch of Lake Calenhad.  
Liv was silent now, and reflected on how her life had changed so thoroughly in a few days. Only a week before she had a father and a mother, a brother, a home and a dog ... all she had left was the dog, but now she had the man she loved beside her. She had grown up a lot, she had suffered greatly but was now happy like never before.

...

beta: Kira Tamarion


	9. Lothering

I wanted to thank all the people who are reading my story, I'm putting all my heart and soul into it. It's more appreciated than I can say :)

beta: Kira Tamarion

o-o-o

They were moving to the east while the morning sun brightened their smiles.

"And then there was the time Sorry insisted on turning an ugly scar on Riordan's backside in the tattoo of a griffin but something went wrong, as usual," Duncan wrinkled his eyes in a mock grimace "and since that day Riordan's had to coexist with an overweight chicken drawn on his buttocks".

Liv burst into a coarse laugh which reassured Duncan that she'd have felt at home amongst the other recruits. She was laughing hard enough tears were coming to her eyes, and she stopped to catch breath.

"That was, precisely the same reaction as Roland's when he saw it!"

Duncan felt fully at ease with her. By now they spoke freely of everything that came into their minds, laughing at the silliest things without having to worry about manners, or what the other one might think.

"Sorry?" asked Liv, wiping her eyes with fingertips.

"It's the nickname of Amaury, our trusted healer. You'll meet him, he's a quirky guy, and, aside from his attempts to heal you, he's harmless. His life's been a sequence of clumsy spells followed by the word _sorry_."

"Do you all have a nickname in the Greys? Does their Commander have one?"

The smile on Duncan's face died. "Ratboy."

"It's not very respectful" remarked Liv, annoyed.

Duncan shrugged, then answered with playful pride, "At first I was _the gutter rat_ but then I had a career."

Liv stared at him. "I'll put them all in line as soon as we arrive at Ostagar, trust me!" she exclaimed taking on the typical attitude that characterized her combative moods: chin forward and lips curled.

"Oh, I do not doubt it!" Duncan thought that he couldn't wait to see her at work. "However, only old friends call me that ... at least the few who are still alive".

_Still alive?_  
Evidently, the Grey Wardens died young even without a Blight. It was a short and dangerous life, but Liv was ready to accept it, just as her mother had been ready to accept an unexpected and premature death to remain by the side of her husband until the very end. She was proud of her mother and was hoping to make her proud as soon as possible.

"Who's Roland?" She asked.

A cryptic smile crossed Duncan's face. That name seemed to evoke many memories in him. "Who was ..."

"Oh I'm sorry!"

"He was a good man. Every time he saw me down in the dumps he made me die laughing with one of his jokes." He smiled at the memory of who knows what anecdote belonging to the past.

Duncan explained further, "He was older than I but was recruited later. I will always remember his face after his first mission: an eight-feet tall giant with a double-edged axe trembling and sweating, as white as a ghost. The first encounter with the darkspawn has always been a terrifying experience for anyone. Or nearly..."

He looked at her with renewed wonder thinking about the night of the attack. "I wonder if there's anything able to stop the hurricane Cousland".

Liv snorted. "The darkspawn are nothing more than pathetic, brainless puppets who fight in a predictable way. Are they horrible? Yes, definitely _ugly_! But they'll never be nearly as horrible as the wicked grin I saw on that bastard's face the night he betrayed my parents. It's men like Howe that are the real monsters!"

Duncan had never put that thought in such absolute terms, but he couldn't help agreeing with her.

"On my seventh birthday, my mother gave me two dolls. They were very beautiful and dressed in silk... and totally useless! I wanted them to look like the darkspawn I had seen in the illustrations of a book I found in my grandfather's library. So I set fire to their clothes, and when they were bald and their noses melted by the flames, I ran for Fergus to play the Grey Wardens with him."

Duncan laughed heartily. "I didn't know this story, and yet Bryce had told me several over the years."

Duncan had been a frequent guest of the Couslands, but always without Liv's knowledge. A few months before he had gone to Highever to witness the fencing tournament, hoping to see her in action, but Bryce had forbidden her to attend.

"I've always had the distinct impression that Bryce did anything to keep me away from you, or I should say to keep you away from me, and now I understand why."

Liv wondered about what she would have done if she had known that the Commander of the Grey Wardens was guest at Highever. Indeed she would have insisted, ad nauseam, to be tested for recruitment, and Duncan wouldn't have been able to get rid of her. All in all, it might have been better that way, if they had known each other before, he would probably still see her as a harassing little pest.

"I'm still waiting. Is there something able to terrorize the young Cousland or not?" He urged, looking forward to know the answer.

Liv nodded. "Your face"

Duncan widened his eyes waiting for an explanation as she stared at him with narrowed eyes, as if trying to find the right words to describe him what she meant by that remark. He felt some of his self-confidence falter again: Hurricane Cousland kept dismantling the perception he had of himself, and it wasn't a nice feeling. For a moment he was seized by the unpleasant thought that perhaps she loved him without finding him attractive, and if on the one hand was a credit to her, on the other hand it made him feel uneasy.

Liv stood in silence, enjoying his bewildered expression for quite a while before feeling guilty. "Or, rather, that hateful, compassionate smile on your face the night you broke my young heart. If you so much wanted to see me thrown on the ground like a limp rag, pale and trembling, you shouldn't have left the camp that night".

Duncan's bewilderment turned into immense relief. He sighed, unsure whether to start laughing or to kiss her. He decided to laugh in order to prevent from losing any other pearls of wisdom from coming.

"There's nothing to laugh about!" Liv objected, angrily. "It looks like centuries since that night, but it happened less than a week ago, and if I think of it I still feel sick. I sometimes have nightmares... Archdemon my ass!"

Now the time to kiss her had come and Duncan did not hesitate further.

They were both amazed at the thought of how many things had happened in such a short time, and of how much they both had changed.

"I can only thank the Maker for having sent you to save me from myself," he said looking at her as if he were still struggling to believe. "I can no longer make it without you!" He swallowed hard. It was true, and realizing it was both a feeling of immense joy and of great vulnerability. And there was a Blight coming! "Therefore, you're kindly asked not to launch yourself headlong against an army of enraged darkspawn!"  
His light tone of voice was at odds with his pleading eyes.

Liv took his hands into hers. "You wont get rid of me that easily!"

As they kept proceeding eastward, the encounters with the refugees fleeing from the invasion of darkspawn became increasingly frequent. These were desperate people who were forced to suddenly leave their homes, without having the time to take food supplies with them.  
The refugees were camping along the Imperial Way, building makeshift tents in the clearings all around. Liv saw many dirty and unkempt oldsters sitting on the ground with starving faces and eyes staring into space. The cries of many children were heard, and voices of quarreling adults, exasperated by the situation. Liv had never seen anything quite like and felt helpless.

_So this is the Blight!_

By looking at the devastation with her own eyes, she understood the meaning of the furrows on Duncan's forehead, his haste to reach Ostagar, and his unceasing search for new recruits. She understood his long silences and total dedication to the mission. And she felt guilty, as well as very naïve. It would soon be her responsibility to put an end to all this, even if it seemed strange enough that killing a dragon would resolve such a situation.

At noon the air was filled with the scent of venison and wild herbs roasting on campfires. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to faint from hunger," Liv proclaimed while leaving the road to head for an area still relatively free from refugees. "What good have we got to eat?"

"Apples... and some hard bread," said Duncan, rummaging in the sack, and by the sad expression in his eyes it wasn't a bad joke. He sighed, "Hmm... had I recruited a Dalish elf I'd send him hunting with his ironbark bow and then sit here to admire the view while awaiting his return. But I find myself with a ravenous human warrior to feed instead."

Liv snorted. She was okay with a bow, although it certainly wasn't her specialty. Eleanor was an excellent archer and had taught her the basics, even though it was clear to everyone that Liv was born for the sword, and would never have equaled.  
She thought her mother must have pierced through many men before finally succumbing, she was sure, but her bow must have fallen into one of Howe's henchmen's dirty hands after her death. That thought took her appetite away.

Duncan rummaged through the various pockets hanging from his belts with meticulous care, pulling out what little was left. Eventually, he walked away with a handful of coppers and some poison flasks. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of wine, and a big hare stuffed with wild herbs, ready to be roasted. The view brought tears to Liv's eyes and she rushed to put it on the fire she had just started.

It was almost evening when they arrived near Lothering. Along the way the few scattered tents had become improvised villages, with hundreds or maybe thousands of refugees crowded into their makeshift homes. There were a lot of people traveling in the opposite direction and proceeding forward had become increasingly difficult.  
They decided to forego reaching the inn within Lothering's walls. Walking along the street was like swimming against the stream and there was certainly no longer a free bed, nor room inside the stables, given the situation. Duncan now despaired even to find some food to buy and decided to leave the road to follow a path that led to a small wood of oak. But even there they found a lot of tents and sensed the strong smell of dejection and unwashed bodies.  
Liv realized that she was going to spend a sleepless night and resigned, there wasn't one free corner to camp unless they decided to sleep soaked in a pond. There was only one thing to do, get away from that place as soon as possible. The problem was how, since all around the walls of Lothering the meadows were carpeted with refugees and it was impossible to walk without stepping on them.  
They had to make their way through the crowd to reach the gates of the city, and then somehow manage to cross it to rejoin the Imperial Way beyond the walls to the south.

"Duncan?"

They turned toward the manly voice who had just called his name, and saw a Templar nod in their direction. They were almost at the gates and the man introduced himself as Ser Bryant.

"Come," he said, escorting them within the city, among the protests of the people crowded at the gates, and amid a chorus of "Why not us?"  
The two Templars on guard stepped aside and let Liv and Duncan enter making the official salute, to which Duncan replied crossing his arms over his chest and bowing his head.  
One of the templars said, "The mabari, we must take it to the kennels."  
Liv protested but eventually listened to reason and let a Templar, with his head hidden under an upside down pot, walk away with her Ash tied to a leash.

Even within the walls of Lothering there were refugees scattered everywhere, but once the overcrowding reached a certain threshold, it was decided to bar the entrance to newcomers.  
"They've started to arrive less than a week ago and every day has been worse than the previous," said Ser Bryant while accompanying them to a large tent set up in the courtyard of the Chantry. "There are many others who've been stuck here for days. Going south has been impossible to date, but the bulk of the refugees seems to be over and by tomorrow afternoon you can probably leave."

Inside the marquee were many officers belonging to the different armies on their way to Ostagar. Liv immediately recognized the symbols of Denerim on the armors of two men sitting at a table drinking beer.

"Are you hungry? There is not much food left but if you want I can offer you ..."  
"Not apples, please!"  
"apples..." said Ser Bryant shrugging as a sign of regret.

"How did you recognize me?" asked Duncan. "Forgive me but I don't remember your face, nor your name."

"I was sent to look for you and it wasn't hard to identify you. The description was ... perfect!"

At that moment Duncan heard his name being called. In came two men bearing the symbols of the Greys, both tall and strong, with long white-blond hair, who rushed to meet him.

"Conall! Logan!" Duncan called as there was a vigorous shaking of wrists.

"Finally! It's the third night we sent the poor Bryant out to see if you had arrived in this huge mess. I see your recruitment has been successful" said Logan laying his eyes on Liv. "Oh yes, you did much better than us! Ahem... Lady Cousland I guess? Milady!" He bent to kiss her hand with a flawlessly chivalrous gesture.

"Must I assume there's bad news from Orzammar?" asked Duncan, bringing a hand to his chin to rub his beard with a nervous gesture.

"Very bad!" Logan replied. "And you owe me fifty pieces of silver Conall, he just did it!"

The other Warden folded his arms and snorted "Damn you and your bets! I don't have that kind of money no more. Three days here have cost me a fortune, cursed speculators! I'll pay you after the battle ... if I'm still alive."

"There's never a time you pay for your debts! Could you please at least admit that I was right? The beard, Blight he did it ... The beard!"

Duncan sighed. "Forget about my beard and tell me what happened."

Logan crossed his arms. "Fine. King Endrin is dead. He was murdered, though they would have us believe that he died of heartbreak at the loss of his eldest son. We were going to recruit his second child, but he also died while we were there. Do you want to know my opinion? Murdered. And by whom? I bet it was at the hands of that small slimy worm that is now chomping at the bit to inherit the throne, Prince Bhelen."

These were not indeed encouraging bits of news. The Dwarf army was essential to even provide hope for a victory, but Duncan knew that without a King they would never move from Orzammar, the stone-headed stubborn creatures.

"Any news from Orlais?" he asked, without much hope.

Logan pointed somewhere down the long marquee. There was a middle-aged man sitting at a table, or rather to which the presence of the table prevented from collapsing to the ground.

"He arrived the same evening we arrived. He said his name is Vittorio and that he's a Grey from Orlais. A loathsome type, cursing all the time and the only difference from when he's sober is that when he's drunk he curses in Antivan, and no one understands what he's saying, thank the Maker".

_Vittorio? That Vittorio?_  
Duncan watched the man who lay with his face on the table. He was balding and the long blond curls were now reduced to a crown of gray greasy hair between the ears and a large bald spot.  
From what little could be seen, he didn't look at all like the handsome boy with almost feminine features and long blond curls that maddened women, and men. It had been, however, some fifteen years since the last time they had seen each other, before he was sent to Orlais.

Duncan approached him. "Vittorio?"

The man raised his head and looked for quite a while in his direction before being able to focus on him.  
"Andraste's tits! Duncan is that you?" he exclaimed, suddenly almost sober.

Liv laughed. She had never heard that curse and found it extremely amusing.

Vittorio's watery eyes rested on her with an expression that she found revolting. "And this is your new recruit huh? Aren't you the same sly old fox. Always young and beautiful, huh?"

Liv's heart skipped a beat. What was that man talking about?

"Vittorio, what a pleasure to see you again!" Duncan gave him an what looked like a friendly pat on the back, but his hand lingered on the man's neck as his eyes pierced Vittorio's with a gaze that promised death.

"Huh 'Il lupo perde il pelo ma non il vizio' as they say where I come from," he continued unperturbed. "At least now you have given yourself to humans ... gosh, they may have smaller boobs but, Blight! Dwarves? Bah! I never liked dwarves, not even the one you banged with your boyfriend Riordan. What was her name? Jane ... Jade ..."

Duncan lost his patience and grabbed the Antivan by the collar lifting him from the chair. "Maker's beard stop it!"

The man let out a wheezing chuckle. "You know, after leaving Orlais I had landed at the harbor of Denerim... aaand I have to bring you the greetings of a certain ... Isabela! You know, she asked me about you!" He leaned toward him with a lopsided grin. "Maker's hairy arse! That woman has a huge mouth! Hah, vecchio marpione! A big mouth for a big ..."

Duncan grabbed his blouse taking away his breath before he could finish the sentence.

Vittorio spent himself in a chuckle and his eyes filled with tears. "I loved you, you know? And you've never even realized it ... always having affairs with that good for nothing!" he said in a choked voice, before being lost in sobs.

"You what?" Duncan would have backstabbed him without remorse if his blood hadn't just frozen in his veins.

He looked up he saw that Liv was no longer there. He dropped poor Vittorio to the ground and ran toward the two brothers, who showed him the exit, raising a finger. "The young noblewoman is probably not accustomed to foul language, she ran out whiter than a corpse!"

Duncan dashed out of the tent and looked around with his heart pounding. He looked in every direction, deafened by the roar of his own blood in his ears, but he saw only tents, sitting refugees, sleeping refugees, refugees standing and talking, and some exhausted Templar.  
He ran towards the gates, where one of the guards pointed outwards.  
"I couldn't stop her, I'm sorry. I told her it was forbidden to leave at night, but I was thrown to the ground and she ran off. Might be because I'm dead tired, but heck! That woman is strong!"

Duncan ran out. He wondered why had that damn Antivan pop out of nowhere to ruin his life after more than fifteen years?

He ran down the Way, she couldn't have gone anywhere else, since the meadows all around were lined with refugees. He tried to think what she'd do if he couldn't find her, even if he didn't tolerate the idea of such an eventuality. Maybe they would meet again at Ostagar? Yes, surely she'd decide to go there without him. He consoled himself with that thought, even if his heart was close to shattering.  
He ran until he was out of breath, but there was no trace of her. He looked around: he was now surrounded by clearings with paths going in every direction. At that point he lost hope and fell prey to utter despair, but raising his eyes he saw her on the street, walking towards him. He reached her, trying to walk at a slow pace. "Where are you going?"

Liv merely did a little diversion in order to walk around him and to keep heading towards Lothering.

"I forgot the mabari" she replied, flatly.

Duncan pulled her to him and cupped her face in his hands to force her to look into his eyes. Liv didn't wriggle, but chilled him with a look of utter disdain.

"You should know me, and instead you judge me by listening to the delirium of the first drunkard met on the road. Why don't you trust me? This is not how it should work, don't you think?"

A cold look took shape in Liv's eyes. "I actually don't know you at all. There are too many things that I don't know about you, and I've been so naïve to trust just my instincts!" she said with a forcibly cold voice.

"Would you rather trust that Antivan then?" Duncan's voice began to sound annoyed. "He was talking about things that happened twenty years ago, and moreover, by a very personal point of view. But I won't bother justifying myself for things I haven't done. I just want to remind you that there's a Blight coming and I appeal to your sense of responsibility."

This time it was he who froze her with a cold and disappointed gaze before turning back and stride toward Lothering.

Liv suddenly woke up from her nightmare and was pierced by an acute sense of remorse. "Duncan!"  
She ran to him, but he didn't look back, nor stop at the sound of her voice.

"Duncan, please!"

o-o-o

Roland, Amaury, Vittorio and Jade in this chapter are borrowed from 'The Narrow Path' s/7932911/1/The-narrow-path by Olivegbg and Gaspode5, a wonderful story which tells of the two decades of deep friendship between Duncan and Riordan, that elapsed between their recruitment in the Greys and the events of DAO.

Theirs is a very deep friendship, so deep that many are convinced that there's much more between them and that's why Vittorio talks about 'boyfriend Riordan'.

The authors of Path and I have come to the conclusion that our two Duncans are very much the same man, as we interpreted his character and emotional development in similar ways, so they were happy to 'lend me' their creations. However, what their characters get up to in 'Of Love and Death' is of my own imagination and has nothing to do with 'The Narrow Path'.

When I wrote my ff I hadn't yet read Path and I assure you that 'my' Duncans is entirely mine.

Amaury, Vittorio, Roland and Jade and related anecdotes are taken from Path, while Conall and Logan and the 'beard thing' are mine.

In Path Vittorio often speaks 'Antivan' and being Italian I liked it a lot.

So 'Il lupo perde il pelo ma non il vizio' means 'the leopard can not change its spots' and 'vecchio marpione' means 'sly old fox' .

Riordan's tattoo chapter 42

The 'Jade affair' chapters 45-46


	10. Leaving Lothering

No. It would be unrealistic.  
The harsh reality of facts spoke for itself: the dream could not continue. It had been, in fact, a dream.

Sooner or later the relationship between them would have come to light and Liv's value would have been diminished. She'd become 'the one who made a career because she was the chief's woman.' People were quick to judge and Liv had just provided a perfect example of that. Their love would look vile to the eyes of the world, rumors would have smeared a pure thing making it look filthy.  
Duncan wouldn't care about the eyes of the world, but he had to. In that moment, everyone had to be focused on the upcoming battles, and above all, they all had to feel united under an unblemished Commander, one worthy of their respect.

For over twenty years he'd worked hard to restore the prestige of the Grey Wardens, he couldn't allow that right now, during a Blight, word would get out that he was taking advantage of his position to lure young noblewomen. Or even worse, that he favored Liv's career in the Order. It was a delicate situation that would have taken time, but time was something he didn't have, not now. Their first contact with the rest of the world, as a couple, had been devastating. Their difference in age was actually a problem, just as he knew it would be, before falling in love like a teenager.

They had lived a magic moment outside of time and space, and if he were a common man, maybe a carpenter like his father, there wouldn't have been any complications. But he wasn't a carpenter, and above all, he wasn't a common man. The thing that pained him the most was that Liv would be perceived as someone who shot to the top unfairly. She was completely lacking experience, and there were still the rough edges to smooth off, but he felt that no one like her, with her brave heart and unshakable uprightness, deserved to succeed him one day.

Maybe Alistair did... too bad the boy kept shrinking back from leadership roles, displaying an inability which didn't exist. But how could he blame him?

-o-o-o-

Distant thunder was heard. Duncan had delivered Liv to Ser Bryant, who had accompanied her to the inn where she had been given a bedroom. He would instead go to sleep inside the tent set up for the officers. Or rather, he'd go to sleep if he'd been able to fall asleep, but the thoughts were again attacking him like parasites, devouring his energy and preventing him from resting.

Liv hadn't even touched the bed prepared for her in that small room with wooden walls. She stood with her elbows on the window sill, watching the sky crossed by lightning. There was a brisk breeze, very like the one that ruffled her hair upon the walls of Highever, that afternoon before she met Duncan. And now she had lost him. She had read it in his eyes, she had felt it under the skin. Something broke, and she couldn't comprehend how and why such a thing had happened. She had acted on impulse, as usual, and as usual her judgement had been categorical. But if it was all over at the first mistake, how could a love last a lifetime? Her mother had taught her that a long lasting relationship was based on four pillars: respect, love, trust, and forgiveness. And if she had been lacking trust, he had failed in forgiveness, and the castle had collapsed.

Through that window on the first floor she could see a good portion of fields neighboring the town. She saw dozens of sheets laid on the grass on which dozens of people were sleeping, or crying in despair, people who had lost everything, but this didn't stop her from feeling like the most miserable creature in the entire universe.

The following morning she went down to have breakfast in the common room, where a cup of milk and a slice of berrie-cake were waiting on a small table reserved to her. It was a privilege, such as the tub of steaming water, which however didn't make her feel any better. She went out and headed for the Chantry to see Duncan and the other Wardens.

Lothering was a small trading town, locked inside a huge perimeter of walls massive enough that could defend a castle, and equipped with an imposing and magnificent Chantry, which seemed far too grand for a town of little importance.

As she walked through the overcrowded streets, Liv wondered what meaning a building of this kind could have in a place like that. Amidst the loud shouting of the refugees, who were bustling about and packing to leave, she heard two voices louder than the others come from behind a stonewall that enclosed a small field. She distinguished the voice of a man swearing violently, and the screams of a woman. Without a second thought, Liv jumped and landed almost on top of a middle-aged woman violently yanked around by a burly man who insulted her gravely, while looking at her with scorn.

Liv instinctively shot out a fist and hit the man's abdomen, who slumped hugging his ribs. She followed it with a kick in the teeth, that made him fall to the ground screaming in pain. Liv turned to the woman but didn't have the time to ask her if she was okay, because she started yelling the same insults that the man had sent her.

"Leave my husband alone, you filthy little whore!" and fell to the ground cupping her own head in a theatrical gesture. "What did that bitch do to you my sweetheart? Maker's breath you're bleeding!"

Liv stood, petrified, watching the surreal scene incapable of reacting, but the woman started screaming again,"Help! She assaulted my husband!"

"What? But ..."  
Liv ran away, jumped over the wall ,and found herself back among the crowd loading their meager possessions on carts. She saw some women bargaining to buy the little food available, men who were quarreling, and children who were crying.  
She was walking through the crowd when a black-haired kid rushed toward her, in tears. Liv suddenly felt her heart sink because he reminded her of Oren, her brother's son. But this boy was dirty, unkempt, and looking a bit underfed, something that her nephew had never, even remotely, experienced during his short life.

She felt like her heart was being squeezed by a vise while she was trying to understand the child admidst his sobs. He said he was lost and asked her to help him find his mother among the crowd. Liv took his hand to bring him to the Chantry, the Templars would have taken care of him until his mother would come look for him, or so he hoped. But in less than a minute, she found herself having to grab a slimy little hand trying to slip inside a pocket of her pants. The child began to scream like a banshee, and Liv let him run away, as she found herself in the throes of becoming emotionally numb.

_Why the deceit? Why didn't he just ask me? I was willing to give him all the help I could, and more..._

Before she could cover any significant distance she heard shouts coming from a group of people gathered around a stack of assorted goods. A woman, in tears, begged the merchant to ask affordable prices while the man replied, deadpan, "Business is business, the demand does the price ma'am!"

Perhaps because of the mounting frustration, or perhaps because of her innate contempt for those who take advantage of the misfortunes of others, Liv saw all red, and by the time she regained her faculties the stand was overturned and the merchant laid, squashed, under it, trying in vain to break free. Meanwhile, the goods scattered on the ground were taken by the people, jostling to grab them.

Liv felt a rush of nausea.  
_One good thing about tragedies is how they make people cooperate!_

Two Templars who witnessed the scene came to ask for explanations, but first helped the merchant out from under the upside down stand. Once on his feet, he made a theatrical outburst, playing the victim of a terrible injustice that would reduce his family to poverty, and demanded to be compensated for the value of the stolen goods. Liv explained to the knights what the man was doing, confident that they would be as outraged as she was and would arrest him; but to her utmost dismay they shrugged, saying that, unfortunately, that's how things go, and told the merchant to lower his prices.

Liv's cheeks went from purple to pearly. "So, you will do nothing?" She asked in a faint voice, knowing that sooner or later she'd wake-up realizing it was just a silly nightmare.

The elder Templar looked at her, annoyed. "And what exactly should we do? Look around you, we can hardly avoid the whole city from being flooded by this tide of wretches... Pardon me if I ask, but where do you come from? You look like you're just out of shell. This is reality milady! And now pardon me, but we have important matters to attend to."

Liv couldn't say for how long she stood motionless, staring into space, listening to the blood ringing in her ears. Fact is, that after a while she focused her eyes and saw Duncan walking toward her with a look that promised nothing good. He had, again, a weary face and she couldn't see the bottom of the furrows lining his forehead. He greeted her with a nod to which she replied with an uncertain smile.

"I just spoke to Conall. He and his brother still have their horses: large and strong beasts, capable of carrying two travelers. They are willing to take you to Ostagar, so you'll ride with them and we'll meet there by tomorrow".

Liv's heart stopped beating. She had spent half of the night thinking of how she could make things right, relying on that last day of journey.

_Have I lost you forever then? _

She felt like she was chocking, as if an invisible hand squeezed her rib-cage. Sounds became dim and muffled, the images blurred to become a whirl of lights and colors. She could, and would, surrender to the comfort of a momentary oblivion, but something within her rebelled. She took a deep breath, until felt the blood flowing in her veins again and her eyes were able to see Duncan's face in front of her.

"No!"

It was not a supplication, nor insubordination, it was just what was going to happen: she would not have traveled to Ostagar with Conall and Logan, but with him, on foot, and she would have forced him to speak and forgive her. But if Liv was a tough competitor, she had found something to sink her teeth into.

Duncan sighed. "I just spent the whole evening, and half of the morning, making arrangements and talking, so I won't waste my time on further discussions."  
His eyes pierced her like daggers, while he felt his determination waver.

It was proving harder than he'd hoped, now that she was before his eyes. She was looking helpless behind the thin veil of determination she had managed to pull up, clearly scraping the bottom of her resources. But he had to do this for her sake, though he was aware of being far too hard on her than was needed.

"No, I'll be traveling with you..." Liv repeated in a trembling voice.

Duncan felt his resolution increasingly fade with every second he spent watching her bright blue eyes go wide with panic.

"No help is coming from Orlais, there's word that Teyrn Mac Tir refused to ask for it, may his pride eat him alive! The Dwarves won't come either, and I'm tired of having the feeling like I am the only one aware of the impending threat. You'll do as I say and I'm not going to tolerate further discussion!" He barked, before striding away to return to his precious arrangements and to feel very important. Or at least that's what Liv thought.

_Stubborn, dutiful prig!_

-o-o-o-

Conall and Logan finished saddling the two big dappled gray horses, tied their blankets and rolled up cloaks to the saddles, then fastened the water bottles and all paraphernalia. They did everything in silence, as if the last few hours made them lose their good mood.  
When all was ready, Conall nodded, they were ready to go. Liv distinguished him from his brother because of his wider and more prominent nose. For everything else, the two brothers were typical representatives of the Awars, both six feet tall and stocky, with eyes of a blue so clear to appear almost white, and silky platinum blonde hair, they wore long and tied into a braid.

-o-o-o-

Duncan was ready to leave and went to say goodbye to Vittorio, who, sober, could remember little or nothing of what happened the night before. Looking at the man in the sunlight he realized how much the passing years had definitely not been very generous with the Antivan. Those beautiful blond and silky curls, thanks to which he'd snatched Sasha to him twenty years before, were now a distant memory, as were the handsome features.

"You'll go back to Orlais to make a report then? Why don't you come back with us to Ostagar? The presence of a veteran like you would be of great help."

Vittorio snorted. "Look at me Duncan! I'm finished. It's been months now that I've been plagued with nightmares, and I'm no longer able to be of any help to anyone. Time to go to the Deep Roads has come for me."

Duncan looked at the man's eyes: they were veiled in white, his skin was a sickly pallor that had nothing to do with either the lack of sunlight or with the excess of alcohol. He put a hand on his shoulder and sighed. He and Vittorio were peers and had passed the Joining together, how much time was left for him before having to follow Vittorio into the Deep Roads? The nightmares had begun to pay a visit during the last month, but since Liv had arrived, except for the night immediately after the escape from Highever, when he'd had the worst nightmare of all times, they hadn't recurred.

Vittorio shook his head giving a tired smile. "You know me, Ratboy, I've never been the one to play the hero. Many of us simply find themselves doing the darkspawn-slayers for a living, but this doesn't mean having what it takes to do great deeds. You're the one to do it, Ratboy".

"So you would leave all the glory to me?"

The veiled man's eyes filled with tears. "Farewell, Brother ... do yourself honor and think of me when you kick the Dragon's ass."

-o-o-o-

After a light meal, eaten standing up, Duncan walked toward the walls to the south to rejoin the Imperial Way, followed at a distance by an offended mabari.

Conall and Logan must have already left by at least an hour, and with horses driven to a slight gallop they would arrive at Ostagar by night. He, onfoot, would arrive by the evening of the following day, but had instructed the two brothers to make sure that all the necessary materials for the Joining was prepared, so that everything was ready on his arrival.

It seemed that King Cailan was actually heading to Ostagar and that he wanted to end the Blight in one great battle. This meant that all new recruits had immediately to undergo to the ritual, and he wanted Liv to have the time to rest before facing it. It also meant that the Archdemon would have finally shown up, taking advantage of the wonderful opportunity to get rid of the King and all the Grey Wardens of Ferelden in one fell swoop.  
And it would be his task to face him.

He picked up the stone stairway that led over the walls to the south, climbing the steps two at a time, lost in thought. He heard a sound like footsteps following him, but perhaps it was only the echo from the walls. He stopped but the noise stopped with the second of delay that made him turn abruptly, ready to strike. He heard a scream and saw Liv on the ground under the weight of an overjoyed mabari that greedily licked her face, while she tried, in vain, to protect herself from the huge slobbery tongue.

Duncan would have liked to become angry but couldn't, the sight of her made his heart burst. The fact that she was there meant she had disobeyed his orders, and also that the two brothers had made up their own minds, unless Liv hadn't thrown herself off a running horse, something which he wouldn't be surprised of. Yet he just couldn't help but acknowledge the immense feeling of solace he felt at seeing her.

Liv laboriously managed to evade her mabari's excess of enthusiasm, and stood on her feet. She looked at him, and in her eyes Duncan could read only determination; he didn't feel challenged, but realized that Liv wouldn't allow him to follow his plans, again. If only hadn't there been an Archdemon and many, too many, other things to keep him from hugging her and running away together to some remote corner of the world and be happy... problem was, that the Blight wasn't only a sad reality, but it was around the corner, and no one but him seemed to realize it.

Duncan wondered what would become of Ferelden had he not been in command of the Grey Wardens. He had sacrificed everything for the sake of Ferelden, his life, his happiness, and was still doing it. He didn't pretend to be thanked, but he'd have appreciated at least not being hindered. A flicker of hurt pride flashed in his eyes, he turned and began to climb the steps without saying a word.

"I said I would have traveled with you, and I keep my promises."

Duncan stopped and turned toward her.

"I told Conall that we had to clarify some issues and he understood," she said, holding his gaze.

Duncan couldn't help but smile. "I have told him a lot of things, too, but I guess he must have suffered from a temporary deafness." His smile turned into a sarcastic grimace.

"Maybe ... but anyway he understood a lot of things without having to use his ears".

-o-o-o-

Conall didn't bat an eyelid.  
"Take care of him, Milady," he had said looking into her eyes with a tacit understanding. "And please, make him stop trying to save the whole world with his own strength, otherwise he turns into an unbearable, stodgy windbag when things don't go according to his plans."

"When I saw him stroke his beard like that I realized that hours of thumbscrewing awaited me," remarked Logan.

"If I'm not asking too much, Milady, could you also graciously try to remove the stick he jealously keeps tucked up his ..."

"Conall! Restrain that tongue and remember that you're talking to a noblewoman! Sorry m'lady, it's that we're accustomed to be always among men, and after a few years of this life we forget about good manners."

"Yeah ... and the kind of women we hang out with, they don't fall apart for this type of language, isn't it brother?"

"There was no need to point it out!"

Liv smiled at them, grateful.

"Good luck and good riddance!" Logan greeted her with a wink, while Conall blessed her with a curtsey before jumping on horseback.

She watched them gallop away headed to Ostagar.


	11. An unespected encounter

I thank in advance anyone who will want to spend a minute to comment, it would make my day. Thanks to all the people following and faving :)

Amaury still belongs to olivegbg and Gaspode and their The Narrow Path.

beta: Kira Tamarion

-o-o-o-

Duncan's eyes widened and he gasped like a trout pulled out of the water. "Did they really say so?"

Liv nodded, laughing.

Her face was wet, roughned by the dog's tongue, a little muddy, and he couldn't help but smile at her. "Then I'll have to keep the stick to use it on their heads once you have removed it!"

The disappointed and angry gaze that nearly killed her the night before was gone. She looked at him: the shine that prematurely left, had returned to brighten his eyes, and she had no intention to let him return wallowing in his self-destructive stoicism. "This means that you'll allow me to take care of you and share the weight of the world with you?"

Duncan knew these were no questions, she'd never have allowed him to distance her from his life, and he couldn't be more grateful.

She was forcing him to do something he actually wished to do, with all his heart, but to which he had renounced for her sake, as well as that of Ferelden. But perhaps an exhausted commander with a broken heart was not what either of them needed. Duncan was not accustomed to approach the Maker in colloquial way, and couldn't remember a single verse from the Chant of Light, but for the first time in his life he wished he could.

"The weight of the world? I already have the whole of Ferelden weighing on my back, and I assure you it's more than enough to take my sleep away." He sent her a grateful smile and held out his hands.

Liv climbed the few steps that were still separating them, to clutch them into hers. She couldn't find the words to tell him, but there was no need because he returned the gesture, looking at her with a gaze that meant forgiveness, gratitude, and love... like the long, meaningful kiss that followed.

"Duncan I want you to know that I never meant to leave, nor break the promises I made to you."

He caressed her smudged cheeks with his thumbs, giving a hint of a smile."I never doubted about this. I only thank the Maker for having made you more stubborn than a mule," he said while tapping his forehead against hers with a slight thud.

"I think he just made me a shred more stubborn than the mule for whom I was created," she replied pushing her forehead against his.

"Last night I acted on impulse and I'm sorry!" She would have liked to be able to promise him that it would not happen again, but she wasn't that confident.

"You don't have to worry about it anymore. Now let's look forward, and move forward."

And so they did. They climbed up the stairs on top of the walls and then down the other side towards the Imperial Highway.

-o-o-o-

They climbed the mountain side for hours, in silence. The wind gusts that whipped their faces grew colder as they proceeded. After one of the countless turns, they saw the ruins of the imposing Tevinter fortress rise up above them. Conall stopped to look at the stone bridge which connected the plateau with the watchtower to the one in which the King and the army were camped. Numerous were the signs of previous attacks on the bridge – many portions of the ramparts had collapsed under the blows of enemy catapults – but at the time of the First Blight men knew how to build structures more solid than mountains, and the pass was secure. Past the Tower of Ishal, they crossed the bridge and reached the gates of the Ostagar fortress.

During the past days many soldiers had arrived and were now camped in the huge grassy clearing, they were men and women coming mostly from the city of Denerim. Conall and Logan came in riding their horses and saw many chantry sisters and mothers blessing the warriors who gathered in prayer; the Mages from the Circle had already arrived, and were isolated in a secluded area from which flashes of light of various shapes and colors could be seen.

The brothers made their way to the Grey Wardens camp site, set up between the outside walls and a large overhanging cliff that looked directly on the Korcari Wilds. They passed through the west gate and rode to the group of tents where their fellow Wardens were busy cooking, oiling their armor or sharpening their weapons, while others simply lay on the grass, talking. Lots of laughter was heard and the relaxed atmosphere didn't portend an imminent battle of epic proportions.

A tall elven mage of indeterminable age ran to meet them.

"Amaury!" Logan greeted him warmly, accompanying his name with a nod.

The elf didn't stop but went beyond them to look if someone else was coming, and an amazed expression crossed his angular face.

"D-Duncan's not with you?"

"I'm glad to see you too, Amaury! Duncan will arrive soon. He left Lothering when we left, but on foot. This means that he'll arrive by tomorrow night together with the mage."

The semi-stuttering of Amaury was almost as famous as his clumsy spells, for which he had earned the nickname 'Sorry.' He didn't always stutter, but he was the emotional kind and the slightest disturbance was enough to trigger an excess of consonants when he talked.

"M-mage? F-foot? I thought he was headed to meet the young Cousland at Highever!" replied Amaury even more astonished but still, the news seemed to make him very happy.

"I saw the mages from the Circle have arrived, Amaury," said Conall while dismounting.

"Duncan wants everything to be ready for the night after tomorrow, it seems time's running short. The King is on his way to Ostagar."

It was three days now since the Grey Wardens were awaiting the return of their Commander. When they had departed from Weisshaupt, Duncan had told his men they would meet again within a week, but things didn't go according to his plan.

-o-o-o-

The Imperial Highway wound to the south and, oddly, it was clear again. The refugees seemed to move in waves, and it was probably just that: every time a village was attacked by darkspawn, the people fled in droves, pouring into that small mercantile town called Lothering, from which branched off the many trails and roads leading to northern of Ferelden.

They enojoyed each other's presence without feeling the need to talk. Liv knew those were the last few hours of their journey, and that once they arrived at their destination, her life would have come again to an abrupt turn, even before the Joining Ritual. They would have no longer journeyed together in the sunshine, nor in the rain, and at dusk they would have left the road to camp for the last time. Then there would be no more unexpected apple-throwing, nor opportunities to talk quietly... or make love, for Maker knew how long.

Just a week before, she would have stormed Duncan with any questions that came to her mind, but now she had changed, and furthermore, the things needing to be said were too many and too important to be mentioned while walking.

The sun was disappearing beyond the Frostback mountains on their right, painting the sky with a brushwork of gold and red when, surprisingly, Duncan broke the silence.

"Before your pretty head explodes, and that would be a shame, is there something you need to ask me?"

Liv gasped soundlessly. She looked at him, dumbfounded, wondering if it was she who was as transparent as a flask, or if it was just him who could read her like an open book. Duncan had a half-amused smile hidden beneath his mustache, which in those days had grown and was again too long. Just like his beard...

"Ok, why the beard?" she found herself asking him. It was a rather silly question, but it was something she had often wondered about.

He brought a hand to his chin, as if the contact could help him remember.

"I let it grow during a mission in which shaving was the least of my worries," he said, appearing rather relieved by the question, then his smile took a mischievous turn. "Then I discovered it appealed to women, so I left it there."

Liv squinted at him, pierced by a painful twinge of jealousy, and then locked herself into a long silence. But he didn't immediately come to her rescue.

He had discovered that the beard gave him a certain aura of authority, which had been useful in more than one occasion to sustain his position, but he wanted to enjoy the moment. Duncan broke the silence when he felt that one of _those_ questions was about to come. "The truth is that I believe it makes me look wiser than I am," he told her with a wry smile.

She laughed. "Then, I guess, it's of some support in the impossible task of convincing an entire region of people as stubborn as the most stubborn of mules of the impending Blight?"

Duncan suddenly felt his good mood abandon him, nothing was more grueling than having the knowledge of a mortal danger and be ignored, or worse, opposed. That thought had to be clearly legible on his face because he felt a hand stroking his cheek.

"Forgive me for asking you this. I sometimes just can't help but wonder what's behind that thick black hairy forest."

Duncan looked at her in the twilight and halted, seeing his own reflection in her eyes. What was supposed to be a lightweight question soon turned into something quite different, as he couldn't help but glimpse a proud man, who had found a source of self-esteem in a career accomplished with great effort and sacrifice, as well as a starving orphan who had found his redemption in becoming a respected figure inside the Order.

He realized that for years, behind that thick black beard, had been hiding a rejection of society, who had discovered a source of pride in being received in the palaces of nobility with all honors. This had resulted in becoming a stiff and slightly pompous officer, who basked in the aura of authority that he had managed to create around himself over the years. Liv somehow always forced him into profound reflections even when she didn't mean to, and she was now trying to do her best to put him back in a good mood.

"You know I'll always be by your side, Duncan. I'd follow you even in the most desperate of deeds... and I know that trying to persuade a Fereldan is indeed a desperate one!"

She managed to tear a smile out of him, but in her bright eyes Duncan couldn't help but see the image of a man who had been unhappy throughout all his life, and who found a reason for living in his mission.

He felt a sudden desire to kiss her, but an unexpected voice was calling his name.

-o-o-o-

Devin and Hyram were now on horseback. Unfortunately, neither men were good riders, sharing the saddle of a horse that was too big for their lythe frames made for a journey that wasn't exactly what you would call restful, but at least they no longer had to carry their supplies on shoulders. Since they had left, or maybe it was better say fled, from Denerim, they had an faced the entire journey on foot, and it had been too much to bear for poor Hyram. After all, being born, growing up and spending his twenty-two years of life inside the Alienage hadn't prepared him for long marches.

Furthermore, he had been injured.

Devin had decided to cut southwest along the paths, and if it wasn't for the incessant rains of the previous days it would have been a good idea. But they found themselves trudging through the mud and sleeping in makeshift shelters, chilled and soaked to the bone.

Luckily they had found that abandoned farm south of Lothering. It had been ransacked and the barren ground around gave off a disgusting smell, but they had found some supplies in one of the handouts that were still edible, and most importantly, they had found Ike.

The poor horse had fed himself with the leaves of the few surviving trees because the grass was now so brown and dry that it crumbled under their feet. The horse was very happy with their arrival, and had run to meet them making a noise that sounded like a laugh.

Devin wondered why the escapees hadn't brought the beast with them, but when he approached him understood: Ike was old and had probably spent his entire life with that farm, and that was the reason why he hadn't left. At a closer look, Devin noticed a thin white veil in his eyes, and wondered if it was due to aging or to the fact he had been eating tainted grass.

"Blasted Boogies and their nasty habit of corrupting the very essence of what they touch!" Exclaimed Devin, but Hyram was too tired to reply something.

-o-o-o-

They had grown up together, enclosed in that ghetto called the Denerim Alienage, and since childhood they had made a pact. One day Devin engraved the palm of his hand with the rusty blade of his small knife, which he passed to Hyram who did the same. They had joined their respective cuts, looking at each other straight in the eyes, and had sworn on the sacred Ashes of Andraste: the first who could manage to get out of that miserable place, would one day return and rescue the other one.

Twelve years had passed since that day, and Devin had kept his promise, returning to the Alienage a year after his recruitment into the Grey Wardens. But even in Denerim things were much more complicated and tragic than expected, and they were forced to flee:

Hyram had killed the son of Arl Urien.

Devin had arrived, by sheer coincidence, on his friend's wedding day, and during their flight from Denerim Hyram told Devin the whole story.

"It was an arranged marriage to which I had opposed with all my strength until I had met my betrothed, a girl from Kirkwall named Nesiara. In that moment my perception had suddenly changed from prisoner of an unfortunate fate to luckiest man in the world."

It was the simplest of ceremonies, held on a wooden platform in the main square, under the benevolent shadow of the Tree of the People. Their clothes were poor and barely distinguishable from the everyday's ones, but Nesiara was nonetheless a luminous vision. The sun was bright and the breeze smelling of spring flowers, but just before the ceremony Bann Vaughan had arrived. Vaughan was the typical arrogant nobleman who treated commoners as if they were his slaves and Elves as if they were cattle. Taking advantage of his position of power, he kidnapped a group of attractive young girls including Nesiara, to bring them to the castle and dispose of them as if they were his own property.

That evening Hyram had managed to infiltrate the castle and set the girls free. One of them had already been murdered, and his cousin Shianni was no longer a virgin, but at least she was safe. Hyram had then exacted his revenge, coming out victorious but wounded, and Devin saved him from execution by invoking the Right of Conscription.

They had left Denerim in a haste; Devin's horse was gone, probably taken by the Bann's henchmen out of spite, and Hyram had not even had the time to say goodbye to his bethroted.

-o-o-o-

The sun had just disappeared behind the Frostback Mountains when Devin narrowed his bright green eyes to focus on a figure silhouetted against the twilight walking on the road ahead of them. It was far away, but unmistakable.

"If that isn't our Commander, then I am the Archdemon!" he cried to Hyram, who jerked his head as if he had suddenly woken up.

Devin gave two strong pats at the back of his horse and it strove in a swinging trot that made him regret his feet ache.

"Duncan!" he cried, leaping on the ground to join him.

-o-o-o-

Hyram listened in silence to Duncan's report of the events in Highever. His amber eyes, hidden under the long silvery hair, tried in vain to fix the campfire's flickering flames, but they continued to fall upon Liv.

Then Devin, in his turn, told what happened in Denerim, "When we left, the Alienage had just been militarized and the gates barred because of the riots."

After he'd finished telling the story to Duncan, he looked back to his feet covered with blisters. If he had only imagined having to walk all the way to Ostagar, he would never have worn those silverite boots. He threw a desirous glance to Liv's soft leather boots, and sighed.

Duncan was absently scraping the embers of the campfire, his forehead again furrowed by deep lines which adorned his worried look.

Liv had barely held back her tears while listening to Duncan's telling of the escape from Highever, but when she heard the story of Hyram she couldn't help but let them flow and lay a hand on his shoulder.

Disdainfully, he jumped to his feet to move away from her, his eyes staring at her with contempt. "I don't want any kind of compassion from a _shem_, let alone a noble!"

Liv stood there as if someone had thrown a bucket of icy water on her head, and Hyram clenched his fists to avoid saying more.

Devin stared at them dumbfounded, unable to say a word.

Duncan did not intervene and remained silent, waiting to see how she managed this, and he looked rather confident.

"Forgive him, Milady, he didn't ... Hyram are you crazy?" stammered Devin in great embarrassment.

Hyram clenched his fists and hissed through his teeth, "I don't need any false pity from a _shem_ who believes that we Elves are only good at rubbing floors ... Milady!" The last word dripped with sarcasm.

But he was still not satisfied. He had been very silent throughout the whole journey, but he seemed to have decided to give free rein to all his pent-up frustrations.

"Am I supposed to feel sympathy for what happened to her? If there's one good thing about the _shems_ it is that they slaughter each other for their dirty power games. I'm looking forward to the day we have gotten rid of their ominous existence!"

Liv gasped, and had to use all of her energy to have the goodwill not punch Hyram in the teeth. She approached and faced him, lowering her head to stare straight into his eyes.

She spoke with a strangely friendly tone, "To begin with, I want you to call me Liv since I am a rookie as much as you, Hyram. But now I want to tell you a story, Hyram."

Her cheeks lit up with a pretty purplish crimson. "When I was twelve, my mother washed my mouth thoroughly with the most bitter soap of the whole Ferelden, and you wanna know why? Because in talking about her friend's lady-in-waiting, I had referred to her as an elf rather than a woman, and she wanted to be quite sure that I would remember to consider people as such, prior to the race to which they belong. So, Hyram, don't judge me on the basis of my race or my name if you don't like that others do the same with you!"

-o-o-o-

The cold night wind had reached the Ostagar plateau, and all around the campfire, among the Grey Wardens, there was great turmoil for the upcoming arrival of their Commander and the mysterious mage he had recruited.


	12. New friends

That night, Liv had insisted that the two young men take her wolf pelt, as all their inventory had been lost along with Devin's horse, and the two rumpled blankets found at the farm were damp and smelly. After all, that she could get something to eat for dinner it was thanks to them, and though it hadn't been a hearty meal, they had shared it, fraternally, and Liv was feeling in debt.

Devin had spent hours and hours, in Weisshaupt, thinking of what to bring along for comfortable traveling in his journey to Ostagar, he had also written a list that he had re-read with meticulous care before leaving, checking if he had taken everything. For this he had also to put up with the teasing of that idiot Reevan. It was because of that Dalish if Devin was now known in the Order as 'Ser Finicky. Furthermore, for the most part it had all been useless, since the only comfortable traveling days were those from Weisshaupt to Denerim. After that, the days were spent trudging through the mud, soaked to the bone in the rain.

But the most terrible moments were the nights. It hadn't been possible to start a fire, they had nothing to cover themselves, and most of the time they hadn't been able to find shelter. On the first night, Devin had stayed awake to check that his friend, weakened by blood loss from the wound in his shoulder, would not let himself be carried into the Fade. On the other nights, they had slept wrapped up in their soaked cloaks, trembling like leaves.

While listening to the tale of that disastrous trip, Liv realized how lucky she had been to have traveled with Duncan, if only for his knowledge of the territory and his experience.

When she went to Devin, holding out the wolf pelt, the boy's emerald green eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle. "Merciful Maker! I would never have believed I would be spending the night with my arms around a beautiful girl! You don't mind Hyram, do you?"

But his friend merely sent him a perplexed look, pointing out that Liv was a head taller than him. "You two could never even approach being a nice couple Devin, forget it!"

"Size is not important, Hyram!" He replied feeling very witty, but his chuckles died away. "All right, forget it ... wait! There are only two pelts, and this means it will be the boss the one who'll sleep under the covers with Milady? It is not fair! One day I will be the boss and keep all the beautiful women for me!"

Duncan, who was checking Hyram's wound, sighed, shaking his head as if to stifle a laugh. He greatly enjoyed the playful atmosphere that was developing, but he still felt compelled to keep a certain degree of detachment.

"Are there many women among the Grey Wardens?" Liv asked realizing, at that moment, she never raised that issue. She never had a female friend, apart from her mother, and she was not at all concerned about the possibility of finding in the middle of a bunch of men.

In Highever she had always sufficed with the company of her parents, and especially Fergus. Though, since he got married, their relationship had suffered more than anything else, in terms of the time they spent together, if not in the affection that united them.

Recently, Liv had often trained with Gilmore, and had spent entire afternoons chatting or strolling with him, although the latter seemed to always feel uncomfortable with her. He was always too deferential, and he seemed not able to look beyond the different social status existing between them. Gilmore was the son of a Bann, and Banns were not always from an aristocratic family, being little more than tax collectors in a small territory. Yet Liv had always treated him as a young man of her same age, with whom simply shared the common passions for the sword and for epic feats. Liv had often had the impression that the first to keep a respectful distance from the nobles were the commoners themselves, even when the nobles didn't appear to be particularly concerned about formality, such as the Couslands. It was probably a conditioning due to upbringing from which it was difficult to break free.

An embarrassed grin appeared on Devin's face, and he shrugged. "Actually, you're the first woman I've seen recruited in the Grey Wardens, Milady." He shrugged.

Liv threw the rolled blanket upon him, making him blow all the air out of his lungs in one fell swoop. "Fine. The next one calling me 'Milady' will be officially challenged to a duel, and mind that I'm not here for my beautiful face, but because I can fight!"

"Oh, I have no doubt about it! I humbly ask you forgiveness ... Milady," said Devin, jumping up, ready to parry any possible projectiles and giggling like a silly kid.

Liv tossed him the branch collected to rekindle the fire, but without the intention of hitting him. Devin was opening a door for her, and she was grateful for that.

"Is it so hard for you to consider a woman as one of you? Or perhaps it's my noble origin to put you in awe? Maybe I could challenge you to a spitting contest then, but I warn you: I always won the challenges against my brother!"

And so it was that Milady earned Devin's everlasting esteem.

Also Hyram, who since Liv's previous outburst, had suddenly looked at her with different eyes, couldn't help but chuckle.

Liv turned sheepishly toward Duncan, who had not intervened even if he hadn't missed a single word. To her relief, she could not see that he was embarrassed, but indeed, she saw him smile. He sent her a stealthy wink, and on his lips Liv could read the three words she preferred.

When sleep time came, Duncan insisted that Liv take his wolf pelt, and then lay down, covering himself with his cloak. He kept his distance from her as to not to give way to their new companions to make easy joke, or feel awkward.

Liv waited for the two boys to fall asleep, then she approached him and wrapped in the pelt along with him. She felt him shudder and realized that his hands were ice cold.

The farther south they traveled, the more severe the climate became, and from the nearby Frostback mountains, blew a wind so cold that one could guess how the mountain got its name.

Liv was a pure Fereldan and never suffered for the inhospitable temperatures of her land, while Duncan, with his northern blood, had never felt in his element in this harsh region called Ferelden.

She lay beside him and pressed her face against the crook of his neck, then enveloped his hands into hers to give him a little comfort. The scent of his skin overwhelmed her and soon the desire to make love with him became so intense that her body began to act as if it were out of control. Her lips parted on his neck, and her hands began to look for a way in under his armor.

But Duncan stopped her and sat up, a position in which he remained for a few endless minutes, until Liv felt a familiar tickle on one cheek, then a voice that whispered "Follow me" while two soft lips caressed her ear making her shiver.

They got up silently to move towards the depths of the pinewood, but Liv was not a good thief, and her movements were too noisy for Duncan's liking, so he stopped abruptly and grabbed her to throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Liv chuckled softly as she was being carried, head down, a few hundred paces away from the camp.

-o-o-o-

_The sky was low, and the lack of light made everything looked two dimensional._

Liv made her way through a crowd of people with hostile gazes who seemed to do everything possible to hinder her. She could see the Chantry in the distance, but could not reach it, and advancing was becoming more and more difficult. Suddenly, she felt an intense annoyance at the indistinct mass of people slamming against her, unmindful, preventing her from reaching Duncan. She felt a nuisance so intense it became a physical discomfort.

She felt breathless as she was dragged away by a wall of bodies advancing in the opposite direction to her. She fell to the ground in the throes of feeling suffocated, her body as heavy as lead. Duncan was waiting for her in Weisshaupt, and by now he must be concerned about her delay. She panicked, realizing not to be able to reach the fortress. It was far away, but above all she had never been there, how could she get there in time? Then suddenly she remembered: she and Duncan were not living in Weisshaupt, but they were on their way to a future of battles and sacrifices for the sake of that same humanity that was now stepping on her without even seeing her, taking her breath away, indifferent.

That same humanity for whose sake Duncan could not ask her to marry him and live happily ever after.

She woke up with a start, chocking, and realized that one of Duncan's arms was resting on her neck. She understood he was sound asleep by his slow and heavy breathing, so she slipped slowly from under that burden without touching him, not to wake him up, then she turned on one side, reclining against him.

-o-o-o-

Amaury put away his now empty purse in the pocket of his tunic. Bargaining had never been his strong point, but this time that grumpy mage had also profited from Amaury's pressing need to make him spend twelve sovereigns for five lyrium potions. That toad face had behaved as if the Blight was something that did not concern him personally, and to hear him speak it seemed that the mages of the Circle were there to indulge the Grey's whims. If nothing else, the lyrium was very good quality and had been prepared recently, as could be guessed from the light blue color, the limpidity, and the absence of deposit on the bottom of the bottles.

Amaury carefully placed the five flasks into the trunk inside his tent, thinking, one by one, to the five young ones for which they were intended. Among them was also the mage who he himself had just recruited at the Tower, saving him from Aeonar. He hoped with all his heart not to have saved him from prison only to condemn him to death.  
He looked again at the lined up five azure bottles before closing the trunk. The lyrium would have soon served to fluidify, and thus make drinkable, that awful black sticky crap that flowed into the darkspawn's veins; but, for that, also a good liqueur wine would have worked well.

The main purpose of the diluted crystal powder, along with a couple of spells that only the mage members of the Order knew, was to kill anyone who was not worthy of becoming a Grey Warden before the Corruption transformed the unfortunate into an abomination. The darkspawn blood, and especially that of the Archdemon, would penetrate the body and the soul of each one, putting them at the mercy of the Taint contained in it. At that point each of them would battle against their own dark sides. Corruption would tempt them in all ways: causing visions, suggesting wicked things, tickling the darkest corner of the soul of those poor young ones, until it could find a weakness, and there it would linger until finding a breach, and then work to break through the defenses and to wear down all resistance.

And so a demon would be born, a different one depending on which side of the soul had been corrupted. It was then that the lyrium, together with the spells, would do the same job that the Templars were delegated to do at the Circle during the Harrowing: kill the recruit. The Joining had, in fact, far more in common with the Harrowing than it was commonly known, with the only difference that the Templars had to kill an abomination through and through.

Amaury closed the trunk, and gave a silent prayer to the Maker for not further staining his hands with more young lives, broken by the concoction that he himself would soon have prepared.

-o-o-o-

The next morning it was Liv who frowned and looked like she had slept little. She and Duncan ate a meager breakfast of wilting apples, while the two boys went off hunting.

Devin was skilful in throwing daggers and Hyram was one of the best archers in the Alienage, although so far this hadn't been particularly useful to him, if not for personal satisfaction.

"Duncan ..." called Liv looking at him gravely.

He nodded and she told him about her nightmare.

Duncan knew that, sooner or later, that subject would have to be dealt with. He had often wondered how, and with which words. The previous afternoon he had walked in silence thinking about how to deal with that issue, one of the many that had not yet been unraveled. But Liv had preceded him, again.

"You know I never wished to get married, let alone a life of banalities, but I always dreamed of what I have now: adventure, a noble cause to which devote myself body and soul, a man who appreciates my value, one who loves me for what I am ..."

Liv thought of Fergus, who repeatedly said, throughout all her life, that the day she fell in love she would change her mind. But she never believed it, and once even became angry with him because she thought he was suffering from the unhealthy and widespread belief that a woman could only feel happy and fulfilled by becoming a wife and a mother.

"But now that my old dream has come true, the only thing I wish with all my heart is to become your wife and give you children, and live with you all the years that the Maker will give us before... following you into the Deep Roads."

The intention to follow him on his last journey was such a powerful declaration of love that it took his breath away. Duncan pulled her to him holding her in his arms, resting his lips on her white forehead. He thought that, for the moment, he could spare her the fact that she could never have any children from him, and probably not even by any other man, because the Taint would make her sterile. There were still so many things he had not yet told her, and he felt guilty. Liv already knew much more than any previous recruit, but she was not a simple recruit, but a young woman full of dreams that were based on him, and that he couldn't fullfill.

"There may never be a journey to the Deep Roads for me." He sighed, and Liv heard his breath broke. "I'm afraid the Archdemon will show up very soon in Ostagar. If that happens, I'll be the one to face it."

Liv did not seem too upset by that eventuality. After all, at Ostagar they were gathering many soldiers from many armies as well as the Wardens from all of Ferelden ... so why was he speaking as if he imagined to find himself alone in front of the Dragon? She trusted Duncan's capabilities blindly, but she understood that, perhaps, at that moment it was he who needed help to trust his own abilities. She gently stroked the edges of the deep lines that had returned to furrow his forehead, as if trying to lay them.

"And if so, you will defeat it, I'm sure!" She said trying to convey her unwavering faith to him with a firm gaze.

There was a time for everything, and everything happened when it had to. The moment of confessions had come naturally, without forcing it. Duncan realized that he could have spared himself many hours of torment on how and when to approach the subject which in those days had frightened him even more of the Archdemon itself.

"I'm sure too. I'm not allowed to fail!" He said, smiling to thank her for the almost palpable trust that could perceived in her.

"But after having killed it I ..."

He didn't have time to tell her that he still wouldn't have returned to her, because they heard the rustling of bodies making their way through the trees, and from the pinewood, emerged Devin and Hyram with two large hares on their shoulders, looking highly satisfied.


	13. All paths lead to Ostagar

The time had come. Amaury took the Lyrium flasks, wrapped himself in his cloak, and left the tent.

The icy breeze of early morning lashed his cheeks, but it was clean, fresh and fragrant mountain air, and the elf enjoyed the sensation. He headed to the northern terrace surrounded by the silence of the early morning. The only noise he heard was the faint whistling of the wind blowing under the arches of stone, creating a barely perceptible but mournful sound. Amaury saw from afar that the Tranquils had already arrived, and he quickened his pace to reach them.

There were two of them, dressed in brightly colored robes made from fine fabric, but their eyes were emotionless as the expressions on their faces. After all, only the Tranquils could handle Archdemon Blood without suffering damage from it.  
The Tranquils, and the Grey Wardens, of course.

Amaury greeted them with a nod and walked with them toward the altar, which looked carved directly into the smooth gray stone of the mountain. He placed a dark glass vial upon it, moving as if the mere contact with the stone surface could shatter it into pieces. The older one placed his right hand upon the glass globe that was sealing the vial, and a blue light spread from it.

The lid was off and Amaury shuddered. The fresh breeze suddenly turned into a fetid gaseous mixture made it almost impossible to breathe. The warm colors of that bright dawn faded into a spectrum of pale shades, and he had to fight against the thoughts of death and destruction that assailed him like a pack of hungry wolves.

-o-o-o-

The dawn had given way to the bright light of day when Ash peeped out from the larch wood with a fat black bird in her jaws.

She had spent the night hunting for herself and sleeping alone among the trees, after having a hearty meal of grouse. On that morning she had gone hunting for her human friends, then returned to the camp, happy and victorious.

Duncan wanted Hyram to be subjected to the ritual that very night, and wanted the boy to have the time to recover and rest his mind and body before that moment. He ordered the two elves to move towards Ostagar keeping a brisk pace, the fastest their horse was able to sustain.

Until now, Duncan had always taken on himself the weight of responsibility to submit the new recruits to the Joining, but now the lack of time compelled him to share the burden with some of his men, moreover, Devin had insisted in taking full responsibility for his friend.

This, however, did not prevent him from being deeply concerned about how Devin would have reacted if his recruit hadn't survived the test, he would easily have fallen prey to despair and guilt. Duncan knew well what kind of burden he would have to carry on his shoulders for the rest of his life, and his heart bled at the thought of seeing the innate joy that lightened the boy's eyes fade forever, his face devoid of that freshness and vitality for which there seemed to be no place in recent times.

The two boys moved away at a trot, and Liv looked at them aghast for a few moments, then whistled and motioned for them to come back. Devin began without any success, tinkering with poor Ike's mane, pulling it to one side and then the other to make him turn back. He tried by patting its neck, then kicking the horse's flanks, but all he got was an annoyed snort.

That morning Liv spent a good half hour explaining to her friends how to ride. She taught them to sit on the horse, so that the trotting animal's movements didn't bounce them up and down, and she showed them how to give him simple commands. Despite the fact Ike had probably never been ridden in all his life, and that the two elves had never traveled on horseback, in the end she managed to teach them to ride without the risk of doing more damage to their own fertility than the Taint itself.

-o-o-o-

The daylight was bright, and upon the green meadows of the plateau echoed the cheerful voices of about forty Fereldan Grey Wardens.

The scent of roasted game still hung in the air, although all that remained were several piles of bones around a small dying fire. Lying on the grass, under the sun of early afternoon, were many young men belonging to all known races. A dwarf with a thick honey-blonde beard was snoring with his mouth wide open, a little farther on, two humans were playing cards, arguing loudly and accusing each other of cheating. Conall was sitting beside the embers, intent to remove annoying strands of meat that had remained stuck between his teeth, staring at a young Dalish elf who was rolling on the grass in a fit of overwhelming laughter. He turned reproachfully at a young man with short blond hair, who had all the look of wanting to be somewhere else.

"One day or another, Reevan will die from laughter, and it will be all your fault, Alistair," said Conall looking at the Dalish man in convulsions, his long red hair filling with strands of dried grass.

The young quasi-Templar stiffened, his cheeks purple with embarrassment.  
"It wasn't me who asked to be locked up in a bloody monastery at age ten!" he replied with a disgruntled expression.

For the umpteenth time Alistair hadn't understood sexual innuendo, and for the umpteenth time, Reevan did his utmost to rub salt in the wound.

"Yes but, my dear boy, it's now about six months that …" Conall stopped abruptly as the unmistakable blast of a horn ripped through the air, which could only mean one thing.

The echo of several hoofs crossing the stone bridge spread throughout the valley. The horn rang again and the fortress gates swung open, letting in a young man with long blond hair wearing a magnificent armor of dragon bone and riding a huge white horse. His features were so handsome as to appear almost feminine, but the jaw was the strong, square, and a bit prominent, one of the Theirin bloodline, of which he was the last and only heir.

All those who were near, bowed to greet the King while many others were rushing from all over the plateau to pay homage.

King Cailan seemed taken aback by the welcome and saluted the crowd, smiling, as he turned from side to side as if he was afraid of forgetting someone. At his side rode a tall, thin man in his fifties, with a grim, pale face, and a perpetually surly expression carved on it.

In their wake came many soldiers on horseback, and after the last had crossed the threshold the doors closed behind them.

-o-o-o-

Ostagar was hidden inside a narrow valley; another five-hour walk uphill, just behind the mountain that now towered before them. Liv stopped to look at the end point of their journey, and serenity entirely disappeared from her expression. They would reach the ruined fortress that afternoon, then would be swept away by events and goodness knows what fate had in store for them.

Duncan watched the mountain. "Once we arrive we may be forced to immediately proceed with the Joining." His eyes looked full of concern and regret. "I'm sorry. I wish I could do otherwise, but it's likely the events won't allow me to."

They sat down on a flat ledge of the rocky ridge that flanked the Imperial Highway from that point forward. Duncan pulled on his traveling cloak to protect himself from the chilly wind coming down the mountains, and Liv leaned against his chest to be enveloped in the cloak with him.

"Am I the first woman to join the Grey Wardens of Ferelden?"

Duncan began to tell her about Sophia Dryden and her betrayal, which brought down the Order in disgrace, and that made it banned from Ferelden for centuries, but Liv stopped him because she already knew the story, she'd read it in her grandfather's library.

"I meant since the Order was restored twenty years ago..."

She purposely didn't say what she was thinking – that since Duncan had taken command of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, the group seemed to have turned into a guild of men only.

Indeed Duncan had always tried not to recruit women, as much as he could. Not because he did not deem them worthy, but it was all the more painful for him handing the goblet to a woman, knowing that the Taint would make her age prematurely, and render her womb permanently barren.

Perhaps his was a rather romantic and chivalrous view of the female gender, but condemning a woman to that kind of life was worse, for his sensibility, than condemning a man. In nearly two decades of command, Duncan had always tried to carefully consider all the pros and cons before taking on a recruit, but guilt and sorrow assailed him every time a recruit died before his eyes, usually between heart-rending cries.

He kept telling himself that it was for the greater good, but he had spent many sleepless nights wondering if he was doing the right thing. "Let's say you're the first who asked to be recruited. There are not many women who want to lead this life, but you're unique."

He winked at her with a hint of a smile, but failed to hide the discomfort he felt knowing that Liv now wanted to become a Grey Warden only to be by his side.

Bryce had once revealed to Duncan that Liv was more than sure she didn't desire a family of her own, let alone children, otherwise he would have never even taken her into consideration for recruitment. He had followed her progress over the last few years, and on more than one occasion had watched her fight both while she was training, or in tournaments. The last time had been two years ago, during a challenge in which Liv had almost won, having to eventually succumb to the brute strength of her opponent, a seven feet tall man who was fighting with a two-handed sword. That very evening Duncan had tried to speak to Bryce about the possibility of recruiting his daughter in the Grey Wardens, but the man had taken time. Teyrn Cousland had probably never given up hope that Liv, at any moment, decided she'd had enough of the sword and began to behave and think like a woman.

Duncan couldn't help but wonder what his friend would have thought of the fact that he was going to make Liv a Grey Warden and, above all, that he was in love with her.

No, it was better not to think about it.

-o-o-o-

The sun was nearing the tip of the highest mountains, when the noise of four tired hooves startled the guard sleeping, standing up, at the end of the bridge.

"Who are you?" asked the two figures wrapped in fur coats, through which he could glimpse only the eyes and a few strands of fluttering hair.

"Two frozen elves, or whoever you want us to be, just let us in before the wind sweeps us off the damn bridge!" Said a trembling voice behind layers of cloth.

...  
Devin and Hyram sat in Conall's tent, wrapped in blankets of fur, with a cup of steaming herbal tea in their hands, and a blissful look on their faces

Conall looked at the bundle elves. "So according to you, Duncan should be here within a few hours. I'm going to ask Amaury if everything is set to proceed with the ritual. "

At Conall's words Hyram choked on his tea, and began to cough and spit greenish water on the blankets. Devin quickly took the cup away from his hands.

"What? But...I'm barely able to stand on my feet. I have blisters in places I cannot even name, because of that damn horse, I'm frozen to the bones... You're kidding right? Devin, please tell me it's a stupid joke!"

The two wardens simply looked at him ruefully and shrugged.

"The King has arrived a few hours before you did, and it looks like he cannot wait to engrave his name in history with letters of fire. Cailan and that psychotic of his Father-in-law are already having fun discussing strategies in front of some big colorful maps, and it will not take long before the darkspawn organize themselves to take advantage of it,." said Conall while standing up to leave the tent.

Hyram watched them with an expression that was both desperate and enraged. "This evening I refuse to do anything different from digesting my dinner in peace, spread healing poultice on my blisters, and go to sleep!"

Conall put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a forcibly patient way. "My dear little one, I don't know what you may fancy about the Grey Wardens, or what you were expecting to be like, but I hope it has been explained to you that we are not here to have fun."

The elf tossed the hand from his shoulder and left the tent throwing curses against the Maker.

Conall moved to follow him but Devin took him by the arm.

"Let him go, it's always been that way since I've known him. The cap pops off easily, but he cools down quickly and then comes back and behaves as if nothing happened."

The seneschal sighed and nodded, but still wore a look of concern.

"Are you sure that Duncan intended to proceed this evening at all cost? Rushing things in this way is not like him. He knows that it's dangerous!"

Devin squinted wearing a noncommittal expression. "You said to have met him in Lothering right?"

Conall nodded, looking quizzically at the elf, who went on.  
"Well, I wanted to ask you if you had noticed anything...weird...you know?" Wrinkling his whole face into a mischievous grin.

Conall folded his arms, straightened his shoulders, and stared the elf with a scowl between the authoritative and menacing.

Devin was not discouraged. "I ask because...well, I was pretty far away when I saw him, and well, yeah, he was also against the sunlight, but...it just so happens that I'm an elf, and my eyesight is very, very keen." He cleared his throat, trying not to notice the increasingly severe gaze of his superior. "Er ... The fact is that, well, maybe he was just about to remove a splinter from her eye and I am no more than the usual idiot who always thinks bad, but I got the distinct impression that the boss was going to... you know?" Devin giggled to ease his embarrassment. "Kiss Milady Cousland!"


	14. The end of a long journey

Ok, she who does not die returns, as we say in my country, and here I am, for your delight :P  
So, this chapter was very difficult for me to write, I changed it many times before deciding that I didn't want to follow the scheme used in the last chapters, where I jumped from one scenario to another. I dedicated the whole chapter to the Liv-Duncan pair, concluding their travel to Ostagar.  
I threw myself in creating another piece of Duncan's past, even inventing a family name for him, but always basing my story strictly upon the book 'The Calling'. More precisely, the glimpse I wrote is directly inspired to his journey into the Fade.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Shrouded in the eerie silence of those barren lands and in Duncan's arms, Liv was lost in contemplation of the white snowy peaks in an intensely blue sky. Lulled by the dull howling of wind gusts, she sank into the sensations offered by a world that she might have left that same night. Those mountains were hiding the place where she would undergo to the Joining, to share with Duncan his difficult destiny, to fight by his side every day, until the end. Or where she would meet her death. She realized she wasn't afraid, but she had fallen prey to a deep melancholy. That wild and magnificent place fascinated her, but it wasn't home. She closed her eyes and recalled the rainy afternoons spent in that small piece of heaven called Highever, her nose stuck on old smelly books that told of heroes. She wondered when, and if, she could ever return there, alive or dead. Seen from that little corner of paradise, locked between the sea and the mountains, the world looked very different from what it was in reality, and the sense of bewilderment experienced that morning in Lothering hadn't abandoned her yet. She realized that perhaps she should just surrender and accept the fact that people aren't interested in heroes, nor in great deeds, but only in surviving until the next day, without asking too many questions, nor having too many scruples.

If she would sacrifice herself for them they would never have known, or they would have forgotten very soon after.  
She decided to tell Duncan the events of that weird morning. If she was about to leave the world, she didn't want to go with that burden on her soul.

-o-o-o-

It was night when the door slammed violently. Duncan realized he had fallen asleep sitting on the work-stool, his back leaned against the cold stonewall. The last thing he remembered was bringing in the massive wooden table on display outside the shop to protect it from the rain. It was a very beautiful piece of furniture, and his father had worked feverishly at it for several weeks, sometimes even during the night, finishing the inlays with painstaking care.  
Then she was gone. His mother had died suddenly a month earlier, and since that day Arryn MacDonan had started drinking and neglecting his work, and his son.  
Many years before a plague killed his wife and children, and Arryn cursed the Maker for not having died with them. Then he met that pretty young Rivaini woman, whom he married and by whom had a son. They later moved to Orlais, where the climate was milder and where his carpentry works could be much more profitable than in Ferelden.  
They were a happy, ordinary, wealthy middle-class family, with a well-estabilished business they would one day leave to their only child: a clever boy, although a bit too wild.

But Tayana died trying to give birth to a girl, leaving her husband in the throes of a despair which he let devour him.  
For a long time now he went out almost every night, to return the following morning, blind drunk, and sleep most of the day, forgetting more and more often to provide something to eat, and expecting his thirteen years old son to look after the business.

Duncan heard him throw himself on the bed without even taking off his boots and start snoring loudly a few moments later. He struggled to his feet, rubbing his aching back, and crawled to his bedroom.

The following morning he was alone again when a nobleman, brimming with arrogance, came into the shop and looked at him from head to toe in disgust.  
Duncan knew he was not very clean or neatly dressed, and that the long black hair falling disheveled down his bronze-skinned face gave him a disreputable look in the eyes of the Orlesian. But he was not intimidated, and returned the man all his loathing without the slightest embarrassment. The man asked for Arryn, but he soon realized he had to settle for the assistance of the boy, so acknowledged him he couldn't wait any longer for the 'Antique Orlais' table he commissioned for his sister's wedding.  
Duncan felt his blood freeze. That table had been his worst nightmare during the past few weeks, since his father considered it to be his masterpiece, and didn't want him to put his hand on it, but lately he was rarely sober enough to work without causing any damage. Duncan had sometimes been tempted to finish it but hated the sickening floral ornaments adorning the Orlesian nobility furniture. If he only could carve a dragon ... yes, he would have been good at that.

The Marquis went away outraged, slamming the door.

That night the old carpenter blamed the boy for making him lose the most important customer he had ever had. Arryn was a huge man, and as furious as Duncan had ever seen him. He rushed at the boy, his face contorted with rage, and hit him with a slap that knocked him to the ground nearly unconscious. Duncan was fast and agile, and if he wasn't taken completely by surprise could have nimbly dodged the powerful but slow blow coming from his father's giant hand, hardened by a lifetime of work. With blurred vision and ringing ears, he tried to get up, but a sudden, stabbing pain in the ribs made him fall back on the floor, and severe nausea accompanied the dull sound of air forced out of his lungs by a strong kick. He remained motionless on the ground, heart pounding, waiting to die, sure that his father would beat him to death. But death didn't come, and when he managed to get back on his feet he saw a broken man down on his knees, his broad back shaking while crying in desperation, asking his forgiveness between sobs. Duncan felt a surge of pity and the urge to hug him, but refrained, overcome by an outburst of resentment of a man who had stopped loving him just when he needed it the most. He ran to the door, and without looking back left home, never to return.  
Soon he began to steal for survival, and that's how he got in contact with that group of street orphans who became his new family.  
Not much time had passed when he heard that Arryn MacDonan, the carpenter, had been found dead. He didn't shed a single tear for him. The man his father had once been, the surly but gentle giant with his own unique way to show affection, had already died long before.

-o-o-o-

"Did you ever think that the kid you are talking about with such contempt could have been me?" Duncan suddenly broke the silence, and his words hit Liv like lashes.

"At his age I was skinny, dirty and slippery just like him ... though I was much better as a pickpocket and you wouldn't have noticed anything." He gave her a wry smile, but Liv kept staring at him with wide eyes.

"The world had already judged me," he went on "and had I not been recruited into the Grey Wardens, today I would just be one of the many petty thieves who ended up hanging on the gallows ... one of the many of whom no one would remember, just as if I never even existed. "

A long silence fell, and then he suddenly looked at her with such intensity that the words he spoke would always remain etched in her mind in letters of fire. "Do not judge! One can rarely claim to know the reasons that lead someone to act in a certain way, and this means that you can only judge every single action as right or wrong, but not the man who performs them."

Liv was overwhelmed by feelings of guilt that choked her as if they were solid, and stuck in her throat.

Duncan remained silent a long time, staring, charmed, at the slight curve that made her lips smile even when she was pouting. "You must not be too harsh even with yourself." He kissed her cheek to stop the descent of a tear. "You've thrown yourself to the rescue of those in need without thinking twice. This does you credit, and that's why I love you."

These words could finally snatch a genuine smile out of her lips, at the sight of which Duncan's voice softened further.

"You should learn to do what you feel is right, but without expecting gratitude, because you'll never get as much as you want, nor as much you deserve."

Liv stared at the mountains for a while, and then turned her eyes north toward the plains. "Then let's go and leave them into the jaws of the darkspawn. I'm sure their fangs will crack against those thick heads!"

Duncan couldn't help but laugh, though he was quite tempted by the thought.  
He stood silent for some time, admiring the contrast of her thick black eyebrows against the white skin, and realized that such eyebrows would likely spoil the beauty of many women, but on her they merely added an intensity to her already deep gaze, and a stronger personality to her delicate features. The beauty of the creature before him shone out of every pore, and the poisonous concoction of the Joining, in the best case, would have marred her. The thought of seeing her die after handing her the goblet made him feel a wave of physical distress, and he suddenly blessed the upcoming Blight, that would have allowed him to find the oblivion of death very soon after.

"Would you live beside a man who turned his back on his duty, leaving thousands of people in the clutches of an Archdemon?" he asked her, knowing that the question was directed mostly to himself.

"I might get used to the idea if the only alternative is spending the rest of my life mourning on the grave of a hero. Promise me you'll come back to me after defeating it!"

Duncan remained silent. He recalled Bryce and Eleanor, hugging each other in the heart of a blood pool, joined in death as they had been in love. In front of that tragic scene he had been forced to realize how much his life had been different from the one of his friend, and how fate had brought him far away from the most beautiful reality a man could wish for. He remembered experiencing conflicting feelings ... compassion, a great sadness, and also relief for a renewed faith in humanity. But he was also hit by an inevitable envy he wasn't proud of, which stemmed from the knowledge that he hadn't been allowed to know what it meant having a woman by his side for life, someone with whom to share everything, even death.  
But now Liv was there, showing him that life was unpredictable and that a man cannot presume to know what the future holds.

A flight of crows flew over their heads, cawing in an eerie way, and a gust of wind slipped into a narrow channel of rock giving life to a ghostly moan. Liv waited in vain, with growing uneasiness, a discomfort that, with the ongoing of the silence, turned into panic. "Please!" She looked at him, begging him to put an end to her waiting, but saw that his face was already closed into the distant and inscrutable expression of the old times.

"In a few hours we shall be at the fortress, and I have to ask you something you won't like: no one will have to suspect that between us there is, or there has ever been, anything. I would be immediately accused of favoritism and blamed for having recruited you because you're my woman. As you already know there are no women in the Fereldan Grey Wardens, and I don't want your value denigrated by gossip. In addition, I have spent my entire life trying to repair the reputation of the Order. Many believe that we are exaggerating the threat of the Blight to curry the favor of King Cailan, and thus gain more power. I'm sorry, but for some time we have to move with caution."

That said, he picked up the equipment from the ground and hoisted it over his shoulder, shuddering when a stronger gust raised the mantle from his body. "It 's time to move on."

Liv sighed. "What a pity! I feel we could have had entire years of life together before your Calling. You no longer have nightmares ... "

Duncan, who had already started walking along the narrow path that ran along the wall of rock, spun around as if had heard the hiss of an arrow above his head. "Wait. Now that I think of it I've never told you about the Calling ... How do you know?"  
Turning back he saw that she hadn't moved a step yet, and was staring at him defiantly.

"I'll tell you only in exchange for the promise I asked for!" She said folding her arms around her stomach. In that gesture, which was apparently meant to wrap herself in her cloak, he could read very clearly the stubborn attitude he knew far too well.

He strode back and stopped in front of her looking annoyed. "There are secrets that I cannot ... that I do not _want_ to tell you. Not yet. "

_Secrets?_ A wriggle of hurt ego helped her find the energy to gouge out of him something she was no longer sure she wanted to know, and no longer convinced she could bear. "I thought I had already proven that I can deal with things you thought bigger than me ..."

She closed her eyes and waited for the blow to strike, but there was no shield to fend off that kind of shot.

She heard a long sigh.

"The Archdemon can be slain like any other darkspawn, but only by a Grey Warden, because anyone else would fail. The essence of the Demon would pass through the Taint to the nearest darkspawn, and thus would be born anew inside his body. Without the Grey Wardens the Demon would be immortal, but if the blow is thrown by one of us, its essence passes into the body of the Grey Warden".  
His voice was flat and solemn, as if he was reciting meaningless verses.

Liv's legs didn't yield by sheer willpower. "And... what happens to the Grey Warden?" she asked knowing that she wasn't going to like the answer.

"The Dragon is an empty soulless entity, but the Grey Warden is not. The essence of the Demon is destroyed... and so is the Grey Warden."

Liv felt the grip of two strong hands grabbing her shoulders, thus preventing her from losing her balance.

"But ... is there no other way?"

He shook his head, but her eyes, wide with terror, couldn't see it.

"I warned you that loving someone like me was not an easy task."

Liv took his face in her hands and her fingers became wet with his tears. Seeing the fear in his eyes, perceiving his vulnerability, helped her recover that inner strength that dwelled inside her since the day she was born. "I've never been interested in easy tasks."

Duncan pulled her to him and kissed her like it was their last time, hugging her roughly, almost angrily, as if trying to stop the flowing of events, binding himself to her so tightly that death could no longer tear them apart.

The kiss ended abruptly as Liv burst into tears, her whole body shaken by a desperate crying.

"Hush..." Duncan stroked her hair, smelling it to fix their scent in his mind for eternity. "Listen. During the last Blight the Archdemon showed itself many years after the beginning. I can see no reason for meeting you only to lose you soon after... it wouldn't make any sense. I'm confident the Archdemon will remain hidden for a long time."

Liv stopped trembling and raised her head to look into his eyes.

"Don't worry, you won't get rid of this grumpy old Grey Warden so easily!" He smiled, then threw her a mischievous glance.

"Now, it's up to you. Could you please tell me how you know about the Calling?"


End file.
